Destined Love
by Seawitch13
Summary: OC/Ron. As Ron and Fenrir Greyback's daughter, Julietta, move from enemies to friends to lovers, how will it affect their families? Full summary and list of warnings inside.
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron **

**Summary: Julietta Greyback journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill Weasley and his brothers about Fenrir Greyback's attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken.**

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings.**

**Warnings: Alternate Universe, Book 7 Disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not attempt to sue, I have a relative who's a lawyer!**

**A/N: This is my first Fanfic, so please be kind! I would be really grateful if you would read and then review to tell me where I'm going wrong and how I can improve.**

Fenrir Greyback and Arthur Weasley were as different as Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor. A savage werewolf and a muggle loving wizard who had almost nothing to connect them in any way.

Until the autumn of 1984.

Because what Fenrir and Arthur did have in common was offspring. And a short, chance encounter between two of their children inspired their lives to become irrevocably entangled. Two men who had never even met were now so involved in the other's existence that the future itself would be influenced. Hatred or Compassion flowed through their veins and persuaded them to act accordingly.

Arthur kept his compassion in a distant corner of his heart and mind, brought out when necessary.

Fenrir, on the other hand, kept his hatred constantly in his mind and heart. Finally, his dedication and patience were rewarded and he was given the opportunity to strike. He seized it with both of his blood-soaked hands.

The unfortunate victim was Bill Weasley.

Fenrir recognized him the moment his sinful eyes settled on him. His master had promised at least one of the blood traitors would be present at the fight. Fenrir had spent hours, days, memorising the newspaper photograph in Egypt; until he could identify them all in a moment. It had paid off; for he knew it was the eldest he had mutilated.

It had worked out better than he could have hoped. There is always a special bond parents have with the firstborn. Fenrir's attack would have shaken Arthur to the core. It was a great victory (though he briefly mourned the lack of the devastating full moon on the night) and there would be many more like it. Many more attacks of brutality and bloodshed on the six Weasley sons, until Arthur's pain could be matched by no other in any life. Until even death itself would seem a blessing in comparison.

Fenrir smiled, teeth glinting cruelly in the shadows of the shelter. His time of revenge had finally arrived. His wonderful wife, his beautiful daughter. Their suffering would no longer be in vain. One dead, one living, both so very alone.

'_I'll be home soon, Julietta,'_ Fenrir vowed to himself. _'I just need to finish this. Your past experience will not be in vain, my darling. Soon, the blood of our enemies will stain this earth. We will be free, you and I. Just let me finish this. It will not take long. Soon, Arthur Weasley will be a broken man and his sons will be ruined. Nothing can stop me, my angel. Not the pathetic laws, not the Ministry, and especially not our prey. Wait a while, Julietta. Just a little longer.' _

Fenrir had thought of everything. Or so he thought.

The idea of love threatening his plans had never crossed his mind. Why would it? Love is not something that occurs between enemies. Particularly not ones with the surname 'Greyback' or 'Weasley'.

A Greyback daughter and a Weasley son.

A match made in heaven and cursed by hell.


	2. The Autumn of 1984

**The Autumn of 1984 **

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron **

**Summary:**** Julietta Greyback**** journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill**** Weasley**** and his brothers about**** Fenrir Greyback's**** attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken.**

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings.**

**Warnings: Alternate Universe, Book 7 Disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. ****Please do not attempt to sue; I have a relative who's a lawyer!**

**A/N: This is my first**** Fanfic****, so please be kind! I would be really grateful if you would read and then review to tell me where I'm going wrong and how I can improve. **

**A huge thank you to everyone who read my last chapter, and an especially big thank you to dusty101 and**** WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot**** for reviewing!!**

…_And she was plunged into darkness…_

Shadows swirled around her, like blankets of comfort. Usually the dark consoled her, but this time it felt as though it had been tainted. By worry, by agony, by tragedy. She began to stir, longing to escape from the feelings that only her subconscious recognized. Deep inside, though, she knew that waking up would not change anything. This was not a nightmare, and so waking up would not help. Rather, it would make everything much worse. But the land of wakefulness called to her, and she could not resist…

The wide, pale eyes of Julietta Greyback flickered open. She squirmed as she adjusted to the near blinding light. She attempted to stand up, but fell back with a sharp cry of pain. Looking down, she saw gruesome ropes coiling around her arms and legs. She was trapped.

Julietta looked round fearfully; hoping one of her parents would come and rescue her. All she could see was a long corridor that was devoid of any human life. Not even the paintings on the wall moved, but they appeared to be staring intently at her: causing her to shiver. She stared dead ahead and saw that there was a huge door, made from a greenish wood. Intricate swirls twirled in the corners. Julietta stared at them, entranced. They reminded her of something; something very important. She frowned and thought furiously. The patterns resembled the shade of her – and her mother's – hair. It was naturally honestly green, obtained from a magical creature that Julietta couldn't remember the name of. She thought more determinedly.

_Green swirls and whirls… _

_Bath water… _

_The green was wet… _

Why?

Images began to appear, dancing mockingly through her mind. Then, everything made sense…

_"Mummy!" The childishly innocent voice called out as she clambered through the window in the back of the cabin. She then realised her parents' bedroom was as cold and silent as a grave. The beaming smile slid off her face and she gazed round, anxiety beginning to gnaw at her._

"_Mummy?" she called again, with all the original confidence gone. She began to inch towards the bathroom door, uncertain and frightened. The cabin was never like this. Her mother believed in vibrancy and vivacity at all times. Something was wrong, and she was reluctant to find out what. _

_Julietta nudged the door cautiously and it slid open. Trembling, she crept in. _

"_Mummy?" she whimpered, terror evident in her the way her voice trembled. She squeezed her eyes shut and stepped in fully. She remained like that, just standing there, until curiosity overcame panic and she looked. _

_And would wish fervently for the rest of her life that she hadn't. _

_A lifeless figure lay in the bath water, naked skin pale and limbs still. There wasn't a mark on the body, no obvious cause of death. Her once warm eyes stared, blank and unresponsive, at her daughter. Julietta's gasp caught in her throat, her tears clung to her eyes grimly. It was as though she was caught in a time freeze, unable to move even if she had been ordered to. She watched her mother – her dead mother – wordlessly. _

_A soft cough from behind made her head move round slowly. A cloaked figure stood in the doorway, watching the Greyback women with what was almost – but not quite – sympathy. _

"_Come." He stated flatly. "You can't do anything for her." Julietta began to shake violently, but she didn't move. _

_The man sighed. "Come. We won't hurt you. That's not what we came for. We need to protect our people from your… dad." He made a noticeable effort to say the last word. _

"_And we had to do that by any means necessary." Julietta didn't really understand what he had said, but coherent thoughts were now beginning to form. _

"_You killed my mummy," she whispered. _

"_We had to. We have to restrain Fenrir Greyback-" _

"_You killed my mummy." _

"_We had no choice." _

"_You killed my mummy!" Her voice had risen to a demented shriek. _

_The man strode across the room and knelt beside her, his nails digging into her shoulder. _

"_Fenrir Greyback is a vicious, wicked, insane werewolf who must be stopped." _

"_He's my daddy!" she protested. The man looked at her coldly for several minutes. _

"_Come." He repeated eventually. _

"_No!" Julietta cried out passionately. "You're evil. You killed mummy! You're hurting daddy! You…" her words were cut off as the auror sent a stunning curse at her and she was plunged into darkness…_

"Are you all right?" a soft, timid voice brought Julietta out of her memory. She looked up and locked eyes with a small redhead. She stared, taken aback to see another child.

"No. Mummy died," She answered quietly, bottom lip quivering, "and Daddy's not here."

The boy looked genuinely upset. "I'm sorry," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Why are you here?" Julietta asked eventually. "Are we in prison?"

The boy looked confused at first, but then his face creased into a laugh. Julietta couldn't get annoyed; his smile was infectious. "We're not in prison!" he exclaimed, bewildered, before glancing down at her bonds. His grin fell as understanding dawned. Lowering his voice, he leaned in closer to her:

"We're in the Ministry."

"Draculine Hagan is your cousin, correct?"

"Yes," Arthur Weasley repeated impatiently.

"Your mother's sister's son?"

"Yes."

"Fenrir Greyback is a friend of Draculine's?"

"Yes."

"Draculine has a son, Donald?"

"Yes! What does that-?"

"Fenrir Greyback has a daughter?"

"I've told you that before."

"Julietta Greyback?"

"Something along those lines."

"Born 29th September 1980? A few months after your own son?"

"What does Ronald-?"

"Donald and Ronald have met, correct?"

"Yes. What does that-?"

"Are good friends, would you say?"

"I suppose. But-?"

"Arthur, we need your full co-operation in this matter."

"I'm giving you it!" Arthur snapped, his patience having been stretched to the limit.

"We need to know all the information you have…"

"I've told you it." Arthur repeated wearily. "And I would appreciate it if you told me what you're intending to do with it."

"If you're referring to the case with Lark Greyback…"

"I just don't like to think I helped in murder."

"She was the wife of Fenrir Greyback…"

"That doesn't make it right. None of what you're doing is right, and I want no part in it."

"Fenrir Greyback…"

"I know!" Arthur shouted, frustrated with hearing the same things over and over. "I know he's a werewolf and a threat!" He got up and stormed out of the interrogation.

"But that doesn't mean we should retaliate," he muttered under his breath sadly. His mournful air cleared as he thought of his youngest son, whom he had – perhaps unwisely – brought into work that day. Arthur began to hurry back to his office, hoping Ronnie hadn't wondered off while he was away.

"So your daddy works here?"

"That's right," the boy nodded proudly.

"Is that why you know so much?" Julietta asked admiringly.

"I don't know that much," the boy replied modestly. "Just some stuff."

"I'll be going home soon?" Julietta asked again hopefully.

"That's what daddy said. He said they were just keeping you her for…" – the boy screwed up his nose as he struggled to remember the word – "ne-goti-ations. Or something," he added thoughtfully. "You get to go home if your daddy stops being bad. People say he is," he added before Julietta could spring up in a rage.

"He isn't," she insisted.

"No he's not," the boy agreed. Julietta beamed happily.

"You're not bad," the boy said, "so he can't be."

Julietta gazed at her new friend, filled with bittersweet delight. She thought longingly of her mother, before opening her mouth to ask the boy his name.

Suddenly he leapt up. "I've got to go," he said hurriedly. "Daddy made me promise I'd stay in his office. And I didn't," he told her, unnecessarily.

"Why not?"

"Heard you were here."

With that, Julietta's future mate vanished round the corner. The next time they would meet, it would be under very different circumstances.

"Your cousin told them? About my family? About my 'weak spot'?" Fenrir Greyback repeated disbelievingly.

His best friend of seventeen years, Draculine Hagan, nodded grimly.

"What… but… how… why…" Fenrir spluttered incoherently, until eventually subsiding into a horrified silence.

"Arthur is related to me in nothing but blood," Draculine said sneeringly. "Friendship, loyalty, love… none of that unites us. He is on one side and I am on the other. He would think nothing of betraying me – and consequently you."

When Fenrir continued to say nothing, Draculine added gently, "I'm sorry I told him about Lark and Julietta. I hoped he was still on our side. I didn't realise he'd tell those people at the first opportunity. I'm sorry, Fenrir. Forgive me?" he finished sadly, reaching over to grasp his friend's shoulder in an offer of comfort.

Fenrir finally looked over and even Draculine, who knew him better than anyone else, was startled at the depth of the hatred blazing in his eyes. "Nothing to forgive, old friend," Fenrir whispered harshly.

Draculine's heart ached for the terrible loss his friend had suffered – and would suffer. Draculine's vampire instincts – and human emotion – told him this was only the beginning of what would be a long and bloodthirsty war between Arthur and Fenrir.

A war between his once-favourite cousin and current best friend.

A war that could have only one winner.

If death and abduction could start it, what would it take to finish it?

"Arthur Weasley will pay," Fenrir hissed. "And his sons will be exploited in order to do so."

Outside, Julietta's eyes widened as she listened to the plans between her dad and adopted uncle. Plans of devastation and destruction, carnage and cruelty; all to be inflicted on an 'Arthur Weasley'. Or, if she heard correctly, his sons.

She knew what her father did. She knew of the slaughter and mutilation that her parents only argued about behind closed doors; supposedly out of her hearing. She knew.

So she knew if her father was resorting to this, Arthur Weasley must be evil in human form. He must be a serious, deadly threat. And threats to Fenrir Greyback, now her only family member, must be disposed of…

That was exactly the thought on sixteen-year-old Julietta's mind, thirteen years later, as she journeyed to Hogwarts to confront the six Weasley brothers – the pawns in the final moves to decide her father's fate.

**A/N: Julietta's hair really is green, it's not a typo! **


	3. Reminisces

**Reminisces **

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron **

**Summary:**** Julietta Greyback**** journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill**** Weasley**** and his brothers about**** Fenrir Greyback's**** attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken.**

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings.**

**Warnings: Alternate Universe, Book 7 Disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. ****Please do not attempt to sue; I have a relative who's a lawyer!**

**A/N: This is my first**** Fanfic****, so please be kind! I would be really grateful if you would read and then review to tell me where I'm going wrong and how I can improve. **

**I apologize if the characters seem OOC in this chapter. They wouldn't co-operate with me! **

**A huge thank you to everyone who read my last chapter, and an especially big thank you to Wateranddarkness666 for reviewing!!**

Storm clouds began to gather above Hogwarts castle. The night sky looked ferocious as it frowned down upon the young wizard sitting despondently at the water's edge. He paid no attention to the weather and continued to stare vacantly into the distance, his mind and heart haunted with the recent tragedy. He was, for once, all alone. There were no Order members to bother him, under the pretence of 'helping' and he was enjoying the rare peace. It was a chance to finally let out his feelings. Feelings of such intense angst his loved ones would have been shocked to see it.

Ronald Weasley sighed softly as he watched the raindrops cast ripples across the water. He refused to look at his reflection, knowing what he would see.

It would be a delicate-looking teenager who bore no resemblance to whom he had been mere months ago. His normally sparkling turquoise-blue eyes were dulled by despair and his mischievous grin was turned upside down. Pale skin covered hollow cheekbones, giving the illusion of someone who had not been eating or sleeping properly for days.

Except it was, of course, not an illusion.

Ron didn't need to look at himself to know he was taking the recent depressing incidents badly. His emotional pain was far greater than his physical. Just a week or two of events were all it took to change him from a sturdy, cheerful young man to a desolate, fragile one.

Events full of drama and sorrow.

Ron smiled humourlessly as his mind replayed the incidents to him, as though he could ever forget.

"_Ron! RON! Listen to me! Are you all right?" _

"_What are you talking about, Bill?" _

"_You… you didn't hear?" _

"_Hear what?" _

"_The teachers. Death Eater attack. Hogsmeade." _

"_W-what?" _

"_Oh. I thought Harry was going to tell you…" _

"_Are they all right? Bet they gave the Death Eaters a right kicking!" _

"_Ron…" _

"_That'll show Lord… HIM we won't be messed with!" _

"_Ron…"_

"_They are all right, then, aren't they?" _

"_Ron!" _

"_What?" _

"_They're dead. All of 'em." _

"_No… no…" _

"_Even Hagrid. I'm so sorry, little brother." _

"_No! NO!" _

Ron gazed listlessly into the murky depths of the water, trying to forget the severe anguish in Bill's eyes as he told him of the deaths of so many powerful witches and wizards. People Ron had thought were invincible.

_McGonagall… _

_Flitwick… _

_Sprout… _

_Slughorn… _

_Hagrid… _

Brave, loyal people. So dedicated to the cause they were willing to lay down their lives. The biggest of all sacrifices. So devoted, yet they were just wiped off the face of the planet. As if they weren't important, as if they didn't matter.

And to Him they didn't. Him being the most evil of all men ever to curse the land with their very presence. Him being the man Harry Potter was meant to be going head to head with.

"_You're going WHERE?!" _

"_Ginny, please, keep your voice down!" _

"_Why should I? My BOYFRIEND'S going off on an incredibly dangerous mission…" _

"_You knew it was coming…" _

"_Harry, you all but promised me you'd learn more magic first…" _

"_He did nothing of the sort, Ginny!" _

"_Stay out of this, Hermione! This is between me and MY boyfriend." _

"_What's all the shouting about, dears?" _

"_Nothing, Mrs. Weasley." _

"_Really, Harry?" _

"_Mum, Harry and Hermione and Ron are…" _

"_Shut up, Ginny!" _

"_Hermione! What were you saying, Ginny?" _

_Ron had just sat quietly in the corner of the room; watching as the truth gradually poured out, courtesy of his sister. _

_He had never fully appreciated how loudly his mother could shout. _

_He had never fully appreciated how interfering Charlie could be, even when he believed he was helping. _

"_Mum, listen to me! Let them stay a few months at Hogwarts…" _

"_If they can be trusted not to rush off…" _

"_Then they can learn some more magic…" _

"_You're just encouraging them, now!" _

"_And then we can look at the possibility of them going." _

"_Going? You're not supporting this, surely?" _

"_It's got to be done, Mrs. Weasley…" _

"_YOU KEEP QUIET, HARRY POTTER!" _

"_Harry's right, Mum. They've got to do it…" _

"_Thank you, Charlie…" _

"_Just not right now…" _

"_What!" _

"_Oh, so we're to just LET Lord Voldemort destroy the wizarding world while we're at Hogwarts learning magic? People are dying, Charlie!" _

"_I'm well aware of that, thank you Hermione, but rushing off and getting yourself killed isn't going to help anyone, now, is it?" _

It was one of the rare genes the Weasley boys all shared: Logic. Just as no one was able to argue with Ron's logic on the chessboard, no one was able to argue with Charlie's logic in the 'Conference Room' (otherwise known as the Weasley kitchen).

"_So we're staying at Hogwarts then, Harry?" _

"_Guess so, Ron." _

"_Really, they've no right to decide our lives for us. We're all seventeen – well, a few more weeks for Harry – so we're of age. It's our decision. Right, Harry?" _

"_Yeah, Hermione. But I really don't think we'll be able to sneak off. Too many Order members are here." _

"_Are you sure you didn't ask your brothers to come, Ron?" _

"_Yes, Hermione." _

"_Well, your whole family IS against it…" _

"_Yes, Hermione." _

"_Oh, well, since the Weasleys have planned the next few months of our lives for us, we'll just have to spend the time studying really hard. Then they'll have no reason to prevent us." _

"_People are dying; I can't believe we're expected just to sit back and watch." _

"_I know, Harry, I know." _

Hermione's comforting brown eyes were focused on Harry's worn face as she rubbed his arm soothingly. Harry smiled gratefully at her. Green eyes met brown, and for a moment it was as if blue eyes were never in the trio. The moment passed, but there were soon many more like it.

"_Er, Ron? You know Harry and Hermione? They seem… sort of… closer." _

"_I noticed." _

"_Right, right. Um, good." _

"_Haven't you got a class to be supervising or something, George?" _

Harry and Hermione's sudden affair did not go unnoticed.

"Oh, Potter and Granger! Didn't see that one coming…"

"_Hey, Weasel! Looks like Potty and Mudblood got fed up of you, eh?" _

"_Ron, Harry and Hermione… Have they said anything to you? I mean, they'd have told me if they were dating, right? Ron, I'm Harry's girlfriend!" _

"_Ron? Listen, if you wanna talk to me or Fred, well, our door's always open." _

"_Ron, look, I know we're not talking and everything, but I'm still here for you. I'm your brother, after all." _

"_Ron, Fleur and I really think you should talk to someone. I know I'm sort of a teacher now, but you can still talk to me." _

"_Ron, I think you should eat something, you've not eaten in ages." _

"_Ron…" _

"_Ron…" _

"_Ron!" _

Having all six Weasley brothers at Hogwarts never had been an idea that appealed to the youngest. His dislike of it intensified noticeably when his brothers seemed to get a firm idea in their heads that he needed 'help'.

'Help' that could, of course, only come from them.

In the current time, everyone needed help. Everyone needed support. The terrible betrayal of the former Potions master still hung over everyone's head; as well as the consequence of it: the death of Albus Dumbledore. The spells that had been placed around the castle shortly after his death had relieved the worst of the burdens that most pupils carried around with them. The enchantments came from his will; they came from Dumbledore.

The enchantments gave safety and 'impenetrable' protection to Hogwarts and the Burrow, the new safe haven for the Order. These spells helped to restore order to many of the students. To others, however, these spells were no use. They offered no protection from the affliction that still hounded the conscious and unconscious alike.

People dealt with death in different ways. Most tried to give comfort to others. But comfort can come in many diverse forms.

_Hermione tilted her soft, rose-pink lips up. He cupped her face in his hand. Hesitant eyes watched one another, both filled with longing and desire. They moved forward as one and met in an embrace overflowing not with lust or with the innocence of a crush, but with deep devoted love and loyalty. _

_Ron Weasley stood in the doorway, watching with an eerie-like calmness as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger confirmed his suspicions. The monster in his chest did not roar with rage but wept oceans, drowning itself in its torment. _

When a heart is broken so many times in quick succession, sometimes the only way of coping is to stop caring.

"_Ron, I'm so sorry. We weren't planning to hurt you, I swear. Harry and I… it's like we have a connection. Ron, I'm sorry." _

"_Ron, please listen to me. Hermione and I didn't realize you were there. If we had, we would never…" _

"_Ronald, do you care at all? I'm serious. You're acting so strangely… Ron, please, I'm your sister!" _

"_Ron, I'm really, really…" _

"_Sorry…sorry…sorry…" _

'_Can that one little word change anything?'_ Ron contemplated dreamily. _'Can a five-letter word really take away never-ending agony of distress and heartache?' _

"_Ron, please talk to Harry and Hermione. They're miserable without you. They don't deserve this, do they? You're not selfish enough to take away their happiness, are you? George and I know you, little bro." _

"_How could they do this to us, Ron? They were supposed to love us! Ron, I'm begging you, talk to me! I need you…" _

"_Ron, they really are sorry. And you and Hermione weren't really… well… that suited to each other, were you? Try and forgive your friends, son. They need you in the trio." _

'_Forgiveness is another funny word_,' Ron mused as the rain drenched him, freezing his body to the core. _'Should you forgive when you were hurt so much? Hurt that overshadowed all other pain life dealt you? Such torture that was experienced in just a few seconds that ached more than seventeen years worth of other unhappiness?'_

"_What does everyone reckon the chances are of Ron coming round in the next week?" _

"_Seriously, Fred? Non-existent." _

"_Yeah, right, Bill. Ron will soon realize what a prat he's being and be decent again… well, as decent as he was before." _

"_Do you think so? He doesn't seem to realize how much he's hurting them…" _

"_Charlie! Harry and Hermione snogged in front of him, in case you've forgotten." _

"_Thank you, Bill; I'd actually managed to forget that." _

"_Really, Charlie? You're getting so forgetful in your old age. Next time our darling baby brother decides to honour us with his presence, you'll see he's auditioning for a role as Moaning Myrtle's less cheerful boyfriend." _

"_You're being mean, you three." _

"_Oh, relax, Bill. I guarantee you Ron will be back to his normal – ahem – self by the end of the week, or my name isn't George Weasley!" _

"_Yeah, we've got some really good cheering products that need tested…" _

"_That's not a bad idea. Harry and Hermione would really appreciate it…" _

"_I'm sure they would." _

"_Oh! Ron. Um… we weren't… we didn't…" _

Betrayals seemed to be coming in thick and fast.

"…_and, before my visit comes to a close, I would like to announce the engagement of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger!" _

"_Really, Minister Falcon, you don't need to…" _

"_Nonsense, my dear! As new Minister for Magic, it is my duty to share such good news. It lightens the hearts of those darkened with the latest ordeals. Everyone, I believe a toast is in order!" _

The time of heartache passed slowly, yet it brought so many changes. Very few of them comforted Ron, imprisoned in his torture chamber.

_Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard to ever live, attends his last funeral… _

_The sadistic desire of the Death Eaters, five professors brutally killed in minutes…_

"_And the new Minister for Magic is… Miles Falcon!" _

"_Due to the… unfortunate incident with the former professors, we will be introducing better safety measures to the grounds, students and teachers of Hogwarts Castle. Ministry Officials Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater, Cursebreaker William Weasley, Former Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor Remus Lupin, Dragon Tamer Charlie Weasley, Giant Tamer Charlotte Bernard, Auror Nymphadora Tonks and Product Masters Fred and George Weasley. These people will do their up most to protect everyone within these walls. Whether it is helping with the invaluable lessons, patrolling the grounds or fighting the Dark Side, we may depend on these wizards… and witches, of course." _

"_Due to the reign of terror You Know How is about to inflict upon us, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry will remain open throughout the summer for those of you who wish to learn how to defend yourself." _

_The Burrow had taken over as Official Headquarters for the Order… _

_A charm taken from the will of Dumbledore had enabled a passageway from Hogwarts to the Burrow… how exactly had he known Sirius's old place would no longer be suitable, courtesy of Snape? _

"_Read all about it… The Engagement of the Boy Who Lived and a Witch Genius!"_

_Harry and Hermione had gone off to hunt for the Horcruxes… without Ron. They had wanted to 'redeem themselves' in the eyes of their friends. But, to Ron, it felt like abandon._

In a matter of weeks, the life of Ronald Bilius Weasley had changed so much it was scarcely recognizable to the one he had once led.

And by refusing to talk to his friends, avoiding his happier-looking sister (consolation from a supportive family does have some effect) and with no solace at all from his five brothers, Ron had trapped himself in a prison of suffering. And there seemed to be no escape.

A faint rustle sounded from behind the pensive wizard. The sound would have gone unnoticed if not for the cool night air: it appeared to increase the volume of disturbances, even with the stormy weather.

Ron was on his feet in an instant. He whipped out his wand and advanced forward slowly. The dark intimidating trunks of the ancient trees towered over him, obscuring his vision. His heart pounded in his chest, his breathing quickened.

Darkness hid the two figures from the view of the other, but they could sense the presence of the enemy.

Rain descended upon the couple, fierce winds shook the branches. The moment was close. The moment that would change the future for everyone. The night sky seemed to recognize the fact. It unleashed the awesome might of the destructive weather. Thunder and lightening battled for dominance in the dark of the sky. In a flash of lightening, aimed just above the heads of red and green, it lit up the square of space the teenagers stood in, and allowed them to see each other clearly for the first time in thirteen years.

"Julietta Greyback…" Ron breathed.


	4. Nocturnal Negotiations

**Nocturnal Negotiations**

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron **

**Summary:**** Julietta Greyback**** journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill**** Weasley**** and his brothers about**** Fenrir Greyback's**** attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken.**

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings.**

**Warnings: Alternate Universe, Book 7 Disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. ****Please do not attempt to sue; I have a relative who's a lawyer!**

**A/N: This is my first**** Fanfic****, so please be kind! I would be really grateful if you would read and then review to tell me where I'm going wrong and how I can improve. **

**A huge thank you to everyone who read my last chapter, and an especially big thank you to Wateranddarkness666 and**** dusty101**** for reviewing!!**

"_Julietta Greyback…"_

She stared in horror and confusion. Who was this boy who knew her name? Who was this boy who said her name as if he knew her? What wizard could know her if he was on the _Ministry's_ side? There wasn't anyone that she knew of who could fit that description.

Apart from…

Julietta looked closely at the redhead: at his freckles, his pale skin, his slender physique, his startlingly scarlet tendrils of hair… She took a hesitant step closer to peer at his eyes. If they were big, pale-blue ones that were mesmerising… If they were the ones she'd glimpsed years ago… That that meant…

By the bloodshed of a silver bullet.

"_Julietta Greyback…"_

The words echoed through Ron's mind as he stared in complete shock, wand held unsteadily in the air, at the young woman before him, who looked as stunned as he felt. For several moments, neither of them was able to form coherent thoughts. The rain then began to ease off and brought the dripping teenagers to their senses.

Ron was reminded of the painful scarring, both mentally and physically, that had changed his eldest brother forever.

Julietta was reminded of her loyalties, and her sources of information; that told her this was the youngest enemy son. Her best (childhood) friend, one of her most dangerous enemies, her best (childhood) friend, one of her most dangerous enemies…

"You," Julietta spat coolly. Ron pointed his wand at her and opened his mouth to hurl a curse…

… And Julietta sprang forward to direct his wand tip at the sky. Ron, halted mid-word, gaped at her in astonishment.

"Werewolf reflexes." She stated smugly, her small hand wrapped around his wrist in a vice-like grip. Her body was inches from his, his breath warming her lips. They looked deep into the others agonisingly familiar blue eyes and both remembered their childhood friendship again. Julietta slowly drew back her hand and stepped away.

"Ronald Weasley?" she whispered falteringly, suddenly hoping she'd made a mistake; even though Fenrir had taught her to never make careless mistakes – they could cost you your life.

Ron nodded, lowering his wand slightly. "How do you know my name?"

Julietta bit her lip. "I can't…" she said eventually, rebuking herself for the sign of weakness. Ron gazed at her searchingly, before slowly returning his wand to his pocket, watching her all the time.

"Well, what're you doing here?" he asked, now defenceless. His voice only revealed curiosity, but his eyes betrayed distrust.

Julietta regarded him, wondering how best to answer that.

"Ne-goti-ations," she said finally. Ron blinked, and then a huge smile lit up his face. They beamed at each other for a few, uncomplicated moments.

"For what?" he then challenged icily, his expression guarded.

"It's about my father…"

Ron couldn't wait any more. He needed to find out the answer to a question that had been disturbing him for months.

"Julietta?" he interrupted. "How is your father allowed to attack people? How was he allowed to attack my brother? Why haven't the Ministry fought back? Why are you still free? Why -"

"Ron." Julietta cut him off firmly, whilst trying not to let on his name had left a strange taste in her mouth. "I'm here for my father, to discuss negotiations with you. And your brothers."

She was taken aback at the panic spreading across his face.

"What do you know about them?"

"I know everything about your family," Julietta replied, gut wrenching as the customary words slithered from her mouth.

Ron gasped and shook violently, unable to take his eyes from her.

"How did you get here?" he blurted out in a rush.

Julietta pulled out a dark gemstone, dangling on the end of a gruesome chain that had been soaked in a suspiciously red-looking liquid, which had previously been obscured by her jumper.

"My Land-Turner."

Ron gazed at it in awe. It was a mythical object, ancestor to the Time-Turner, which had been surfacing in various years of history for millenniums. He raised his eyes, understanding how important these 'negotiations' were if she was willing to use such a precious object.

"Tell me what you're here for," he commanded, steadying himself to hear her out.

"Listen to this closely then," she instructed flatly, focusing resolutely on what his name was, "because your brothers' fate depends on how you answer." Julietta felt unexpectedly guilty at taking advantage of his weakness, but she was well used to exploiting someone's weak point to benefit her. "My father belongs to a group called The Werewolf Society, a congregation of persecuted and misjudged lunar creatures. Centuries ago, they formed an alliance with the Purebloods in an attempt to drive out the unworthy races."

"It didn't succeed," Ron continued faintly, recalling the rare bit of history his father had been eager he learn. "The allegiance severed."

"We never forgot your kind's loyalty. That's why they made a law, forbidding attacks on Purebloods when we're in human form. They…"

"Why human form?" Ron frowned, not recollecting reading _this_ in any textbook.

"Because we have more control then, and should be held responsible for our actions. As I was saying, if someone…"

'_Like your father,'_ Ron thought, beginning to sense where this was going.

"…broke the law, they would be isolated from the society. The Ministry would easily find them without the leaders' protection."

"And they'd be sent to Askaban…"

"Where their darkest memories would haunt them…"

"And drive them insane," Ron finished.

Julietta had had enough of being indirect.

"My father's memories would finish him off within a week."

She stared straight at Ron, her eyes blazing pure determination.

"That's not going to happen."

Ron hated himself for it, but he couldn't help feeling sorry for Julietta Greyback. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have one family member left in the world, one person to rely on, one person you'd die for. He knew he'd take death for any of his family members – even Percy – if it meant that it would save them. His love was divided amongst eight people, so did that mean Julietta's love for Fenrir was eight times stronger?

Looking at her, Ron knew there was nothing she wouldn't do to save Fenrir. But, if he was to play a part in this 'plan', he wanted to know a lot more.

"Why'd he do it? Attack Bill, I mean. You two know my family's pureblood."

"Dad wants revenge," Julietta replied, almost sadly. "That's more important to him than living. But I'm not going to let him die, even if he wants to."

Ron was afraid to ask, but he knew he had to.

"Revenge for what?"

Julietta's face darkened dangerously. "Don't play the innocent," she snarled.

"What?"

"You know damn well what!"

"No I don't," Ron protested angrily, an equal amount of fury burning him.

Julietta flung herself at him, enraged, and attempted to shove him against a tree, but Ron had already recovered from the initial surprise. He quickly gained the upper hand and Julietta was the one up against a tree, writhing furiously, in seconds. Ron pressed his forehead against hers and stared penetratingly into her eyes.

"What did you mean?" he demanded breathlessly.

"Your father helped kill my mum," Julietta spat, bearing a strong resemblance to a wild she-cat.

Ron stared, open-mouthed, for a moment, before her surname reminded him who he was talking to.

"Fenrir Greyback tell you that?" he asked scathingly.

"Believe what you like," Julietta responded mockingly, her sudden calm disconcerting to say the least. "The reason for revenge isn't important. All that matters is he wants it."

Ron released her and took a step back, wary of her stillness.

"You haven't said what me and my brothers would be doing _if_ we agreed to this."

Julietta smirked. "You will agree to it," she assured him confidently. "My father's one of the three Werewolf Leaders. No one is going to be able to believe he could break their one law. But their Well of Morality will show his 'crime'. They won't know what to believe. So they'll question the victim and his brothers to reach a verdict."

Ron had to check, in case he'd been lucky enough to misunderstand.

"You want me and my brothers to lie to let your father roam free?"

Julietta smiled slowly.

"I'll spare you the whole 'I'm-not-going-to-do-it-no-matter-what-you-do-to-me' speech. There's no way you can defeat me. If you attack me, kidnap me, whatever, my father's revenge will be even greater and occur more rapidly. You'll be destroyed long before the Questioning. If you tell the truth at the Questioning, I'll have revenge. And I was taught by the expert. So, there's no escaping me or my father. We'll track you to the ends of the earth if we have to. However, if you lie like I tell you to, we'll be indebted to you. My father won't continue his attacks on your family – I won't let him. Neither will any of the werewolves he commands. You'll be free of us. You're at war, you can't afford unnecessary enemies."

Ron didn't say a word for several minutes. Julietta made sure to keep her face expressionless, but inside she was rejoicing. She'd backed him into a corner, and they both knew it.

"When's the Questioning?" Ron didn't know why he was asking – there really did seem to be no way out – but his mind, ever logical, wanted facts to work with.

"Three weeks time," Julietta replied swiftly. "And I'm going to visit the six of you every night until then. You're going to do this my way."

Ron looked at her, and felt a wave of hatred and admiration sweep through him. Admiration for how cleverly structured her plan was and hatred for what it was.

"Why just the six of us?"

"Brotherhood is believed to be the strongest tie there is, and therefore their words are more likely to be true."

"Won't your Leaders' _know_ we're lying?" Ron asked desperately, "Won't they realise your 'plan'?"

"The only links they have to your world is through the Well of Morality, and then they only see crimes. So they won't know about my plan because you're not going to tell them. Remember," she added silkily, "there are other werewolves and supporters of my father in the world."

Ron's head was reeling. Every solution he came up with to this problem was shot down by a strategy of the silver-haired Greyback in front of him. One doubt was starting to, sickeningly, merge into reality as he began to panic:

There was no way out.

"How do you know so much?" he asked her, hopelessness dulling his eyes.

"I have sources," Julietta explained softly, almost gently.

"What if I hadn't been here? What would you have done then?"

"I know about the Patrols," she said flatly, watching as Ron's face crumpled with despair. Again. "I know where and when they take place. I know who's on them. I know where they'll split up. I know where to corner your brothers. I know how to ensure my safety. I know what to bargain with. I know how to succeed." Julietta felt slightly sickened with herself as her once-friend seemed to surrender to the power of her words, but she thought of her father and forced herself on.

"Like I said, Ron, I know everything."

**A/N: 'By the bloodshed of a silver bullet' is a werewolf expression of shock/horror/surprise etc. **


	5. Meeting the Weasley Boys

**Meeting the Weasley Boys **

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron**

**Summary: Julietta Greyback journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill Weasley and his brothers about Fenrir Greyback's attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken. **

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings. **

**Warning: Alternate Universe, Book 7 disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not attempt to sue me, I have a relative who's a lawyer! **

**A/N: This is my first fanfic, so please be kind! I would be really grateful if you would read and then review to tell me where I'm going wrong and how I can improve. **

**A huge thank you to everyone who read my last chapter, and an especially big thank you to Wateranddarkness666 and KrapsWrites (not for a while - bear with me, Ron and Julietta will get there eventually!) for reviewing!!**

_"Like I said, Ron, I know everything."_

Ron now knew this was one of the occasions when there really was no choice.

"Okay," he said quietly, certain he'd regret that word for the rest of his days, "I'll lie for you, and betray my family's trust for you. Just don't attack my brothers, deal? You or your father."

"I can't promise that."

"If you're to attack someone, make it me. Leave them out of it. My other family members…"

"… Won't be involved," Julietta cut in. "That I can swear."

"Thanks," Ron said reluctantly.

"I'll think about… what you said about your brothers. Okay?"

He stared at her for a long moment.

"If it's any comfort," Julietta muttered, "I can only attack at full moon. Otherwise I'll be isolated myself."

"It's not," he answered immediately.

"I know," she said softly, sadly.

There was a long pause as Ron and Julietta reflected on what the other had become.

"The First Patrol will be out soon," Julietta said finally. "I'd better go. I'll see you tomorrow, and make sure you think about what I said."

As she slipped once again into the shadows, Julietta thought to herself her that her last few words weren't necessary. She knew he wouldn't be able to think of anything else.

As he headed back to the castle, Ron realised with a jolt being with Julietta Greyback had made him forget all about Harry and Hermione.

* * *

She looked between the tree trunks to see the huge, imposing figure of Hogwarts Castle frowning down at her. Julietta hung her head in shame, knowing she deserved to have her insides squirming in guilt. She gazed instead at her Land-Turner and twisted it carefully, feeling even sicker as the scenery whirled around her; before being replaced by the reassuringly sturdy walls of her family's cabin. She slipped the magical device from her throat and placed it back in its protective basin of water.

Julietta suddenly realised how exhausted she was and headed through the eerily quiet corridor to her bedroom. Sliding into bed, she couldn't help but think over the night's progress.

It hadn't gone badly. They were all cornered, and she knew it. But her gut instinct told her to be wary. If she let her guard down, even for a moment, there was still a slight chance they would throw caution to the winds and attack her anyway. She couldn't let them win.

Julietta's sharp memory replayed how all the meetings had begun.

_She peered round the trunk of a towering tree. Her eyes carefully watched the man several metres away. Her body was taut with anticipation as she waited for the opportune moment to strike…_

The time length before the 'opportune moment' varied, but they had all let their defences down eventually. They may have been experienced wizards, but they were still human and they had human weaknesses.

_She shot out from the shadows and reached the man in moments. A triumphant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. This time, a Weasley male wouldn't be surprising her. This time, she'd be in control…_

The five eldest Weasleys proved easier than she had expected. They were in grieving for something – or someone – as Ronald had been, and their reflexes weren't as quick as she had been told they were.

_Sighing with relief, he lowered his wand and turned round – only to meet her ice-blue gaze._

Considering they were on a Patrol, they all should have been more prepared to meet someone – not stood and stared for a fleeting second that let her gain the upper hand.

_"My name's Julietta Greyback," she stated coolly, her gaze never wavering from his shocked face. "I'm the daughter of Fenrir Greyback, and what I'm going to say concerns you and all your brothers…"_

She had half-expected them to attack her with one of the _wands_ they all possessed, but the fates were on her side. At the mention of their brothers, they had given her a few seconds to speak – and a few seconds was all she needed to lure them into hearing her out.

_He listened in disbelief as she began to talk in her soft, deceptively gentle voice. A mounting sense of horror filled him as she neared the end of her speech._

That was one of the most difficult parts over – simply getting them to listen to her. Because, if they listened, they would have to hear her warning.

_She knew she had to say it, if she was going to save her father. But it didn't stop her hating herself any less… "If you don't do this my way," she whispered calmly, "then I'm afraid Ronald's going to get hurt. Your baby brother, correct? You'll find you can't protect him from me, I have ways and means and he's in a weak state."_

She blessed her mother's god for allowing her to meet Ronald. She had seen the way his pale skin fitted too closely around his slight, bony figure. She had seen the way his sapphire eyes shone out from under scarlet tendrils but both colours were dulled with tragedy. Her words hinted she had met him and that scared his brothers more than they were willing to admit.

_"You'd really do that?"_

_"You'd really attack him?"_

_"That's… that's…"_

_"Evil. Pure, pure evil."_

_"Like father, like daughter."_

Their insults bounced off her; she knew they were fuelled by fear – exactly what she wanted. Satisfaction swarmed through her. She'd always planned to use the youngest brother for blackmail – her sources of information helped her to make an educated guess that he'd be the one they'd be most protective of – but even she hadn't dared to hope they would be such a close family. Ron's panicked expression was nothing to his brothers' reactions.

_Bill's widened eyes…_

_Charlie's open mouth…_

_Percy's stabbing stare…_

_Fred's murderous scowl…_

_George's terrified gasp…_

She knew her ploy was going to work.

She actually felt the tiniest drop of self-loathing about using Ron like that, she knew she shouldn't. But she also knew she had to save her father by any means necessary.

She still wondered what she'd do if she was called up on her threat, since she couldn't imagine actually attacking him…

_Weasley… Weasley… Weasley…_

Julietta forced herself to focus solely on that name. Anything else wasn't important. 'Ronald' or 'Ron' – _for example_ – certainly didn't matter in the slightest.

She just needed to remember that at all times.

Julietta closed her eyes, determined to get _some_ sleep, but her father's weary, broken face flickered in her mind. His lank hair; his rough skin; his hollow cheekbones; his bitter mouth that never curved into a smile; his heartbroken, revengeful eyes. He'd never fully recovered from what Arthur Weasley had done.

And Julietta was reminded once more of what she was fighting for.

Before settling down to sleep, she offered a quick prayer to whatever divine souls were up there that Lord Voldemort would keep her father busy. If he chanced another attack, her likelihood of being able to save him lessened considerably.

However, she didn't think it would come to that. All in all, she felt quite elated with the night's work. Hope blossomed in her heart and for once she let in develop, let it flow through her veins and warm her chilled core.


	6. Forgetting and Remembering

**Forgetting and Remembering **

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron**

**Summary: Julietta Greyback journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill Weasley and his brothers about Fenrir Greyback's attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken. **

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings. **

**Warning: Alternate Universe, Book 7 disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not attempt to sue me; I have a relative who's a lawyer! **

**A/N: This is my first fanfic, so please be kind! I would be really grateful if you would read and then review to tell me where I'm going wrong and how I can improve. **

**A huge thank you to everyone who read my last chapter, and an especially big thank you to Wateranddarkness666 for reviewing!!**

The unexpected meeting with Julietta Greyback had taken his mind off of his friends for a short while, but it didn't last long. Hogwarts felt tainted and _wrong_ for Ron without Harry and Hermione. Everywhere he looked there were reminders of their departure: the empty seat next to him during the day; the empty bed next to his during the night; Ginny's red eyes; his own sorrowful face staring back at him in the mirror. Nothing and no one could fill the aching gap in his heart.

That's not to say no one tried.

Lupin attempted to talk to him about Harry and Hermione. About their liaison; their decision; and what had caused them to choose what they had. Ron distantly heard words directed at him: words like 'forgiveness' and 'redemption' and 'friendship'. He refused to listen, though he couldn't help hearing that Tonks and Lupin had helped his friends escape past the Hogwarts barriers. He didn't pay attention to Lupin's words after that, words that aimed to justify to him what they had done. It didn't matter to Ron – Harry and Hermione had abandoned him, picked each other over him, and that was that. No amount of discussion with various Order members, stationed at Hogwarts, was going to change his opinion on that.

He understood and respected why there were so many Order members at the school – it was for the safety and protection of his fellow students. Ron just didn't like that all five of his brothers were amongst those members.

Harry had been Ron's best friend for the past six years. Ron's fraternal love for him had lessened considerably with what had happened recently, but that did _not_ mean he was looking for a replacement.

Unfortunately, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George thought differently.

In normal circumstances, Ron would have been flattered his elder brothers – his role models (though he'd never admit _that_ to them) – were paying him so much notice.

But these weren't normal circumstances, and consequently all he wanted was for them to leave him alone. He didn't want one of them hovering over his shoulder whenever they could spare the time; he didn't want one of them tentatively suggesting chess or Quidditch to him; and he definitely didn't want one of them trying to persuade him to talk about his 'feelings' with them! It didn't suit any of them, this sudden new behaviour: being 'serious' and 'gentle' and 'sensitive'. He preferred teasing and jokes and arguments; their _regular_ interactions. Ron wanted to move on from Harry and Hermione, not be reminded of them at every turn.

That was the _only_ reason he could almost enjoy Julietta's company. Night time was no longer associated with insomnia, haunting memories and depressing feelings; now it was conversations, the beauty of the night sky and the sudden thankfulness that he was still alive to see the light.

Julietta didn't know about his so-called friends (or, if she did, she hadn't let on yet), so she wasn't constantly referring to them in their conversations.

Which didn't always revolve around Fenrir Greyback.

Ron couldn't call her a friend – she had too much of her father in her for that – but he wouldn't call her an enemy either. There were moments when they could beam at each other and forget he was a Weasley and she was a Greyback.

But they always remembered. Her smile disappeared into a frown; his into a scowl. Both knew they couldn't let their guard down with the other; what would happen at the Werewolf Questioning was still uncertain. They were always forced to return to their battle of cunning and logic that Ron knew he couldn't afford to lose or win. However, something had come of it that wasn't completely shrouded in darkness.

Julietta's motion had caused him to feel gratitude for the simple presence of his brothers. The way they had never given up on him – and never would. The way Bill consoled him; the way Charlie chatted to him; the way Percy smiled at him; the way Fred and George playfully teased him.

The way they all hugged him as if afraid they were going to lose him.

_You never know what you have until you come close to losing it._

Ron couldn't help wishing it hadn't taken a torturous threat from Julietta Greyback to make him finally realise what his brothers meant to him. And how he couldn't lose them. Any of them.

Ron knew he'd do whatever it took to prevent that from happening. He'd let demons torture him to hell and back if it would save them.

But he had to do something much worse. He had to outwit Fenrir and Julietta Greyback, a bloodthirsty werewolf family.

'_Will it ever end?'_ Ron wondered sadly, before and even worse thought crawled into his mind:

'_And, if it does, will any of us be around to see it?' _

* * *

Fenrir Greyback growled dangerously as he listened to Voldemort announcing his tactics to a crowd of impressed and excited Death Eaters. To him, they sounded terrible. A lot of minor attacks that were staged purely to lower morale, gain control of the Ministry and terrify more citizens into joining their side. Fenrir found this method of attack foreign and pointless.

Though it was always possible his resentment was because none of the attacks were going to be near Hogwarts.

That infuriated him; it was the location of all six of his targets! It was a perfect opportunity and he was not being allowed to take advantage of it. He had tentatively suggested to the Dark Lord that they might carry out another Hogwarts attack, but Voldemort had just smirked scornfully. Most of his concentration was now on finding (and crushing) the coward; the one who'd been unable to finish off that muggle-loving idiot, Dumbledore. That Malfoy boy had fled after the battle (most of the Death Eaters had strong suspicions that their newest ally, Snape, had helped him, but no one was going to risk Voldemort's wrath by voicing them) and the Dark Lord had plans to hunt him down, ridding himself of an unworthy supporter and setting an example of what would happen to traitors and deserters.

Fenrir did not _want_ to be one of those.

Few of the Dark Side servants around him _truly_ understood why he was on their side. Nearly all seemed to think he was just in it for the civilian bloodshed.

But that was only partly true.

The werewolf attacks Lord Voldemort allowed him to carry out on a regular basis were certainly rewarding, but only because each rip or tear or bite was directed at the Ministry. It was _their_ citizens he was harming, so it was _them_ he was (albeit indirectly) harming.

Although Arthur Weasley was the primary one to blame for what had been inflicted on his wife and daughter, the Ministry were still at fault. Weasley had given them the information, but they had used it to their advantage. Therefore, it was only fair some of his vengeance was focussed on them.

Contrary to popular belief, Fenrir Greyback did not have an obsession with wounding anyone who crossed his path. Causing Arthur Weasley unimaginable suffering was his one goal in life now, but he had had to wait over a decade before he could even begin. Fenrir felt it was justifiable that he'd sought instant action elsewhere – such as Ministry citizens, even though it wasn't all that fulfilling. The only ones he _craved_ and _longed_ to damage were Arthur Weasley's sons.

Fenrir had occasionally contemplated including the Weasley girl in his mutilation, but had always decided against. He had learned her parents favoured her, were most protective of her, and maybe even loved her most. If he managed to destroy all six of their sons right under their noses – whilst they were protecting _Ginevra_ – he knew sheer guilt would play a big part in Arthur's downfall. Fenrir only had Julietta, but even he could grasp how devastating it would be: to have saved one child, at the expense of the others.

Fenrir had originally wanted to drag out his revenge: give Arthur time to recover from the previous blow and then demoralizing him with another. However, his time of attack on Bill Weasley had cut short that course of action.

Fenrir had planned to attack at full moon – and not break the law – but the sight of the eldest Weasley son, battling furiously with his back to him, undefended, had made Fenrir succumb to the temptation. He felt no regrets; the pleasure and satisfaction still flooded his body even now.

But attacking at a moon that was not full had had dire consequences. He now had a mere three weeks to complete his attacks before being isolated from his home. Fenrir was confident the Ministry wouldn't be able to catch him even without the prehistoric werewolf magic, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself by continuing his attacks.

Too soon.

He could, of course, scar as many as he could and let Julietta handle the rest. She was more than capable, but _he_ wanted to carry out the deed. To taste their blood in his mouth, to see their skin under his fingernails, to hear their agonised screams, to smell the stench of death surrounding them in their final moments. This dream was all he had to live for. It was his world, his everything. Once it was over, he didn't care what happened to him. Azkaban, the Afterlife… It was all the same.

Fenrir Greyback sensed the comfortingly calm presence of his best friend behind him. Turning round, he caught sight of Draculine's startlingly green eyes, clouded with worry. Fenrir gave him a brief, reassuring smile, suddenly overwhelmed by the power of their friendship. Draculine would accompany him to the ends of the earth, if necessary. Their blood status didn't matter, nor did their family members. Draculine would die for Fenrir willingly, as Fenrir would for him. They had joined Lord Voldemort together, but it was no secret they were far more loyal to each other than to him.

And it was then Fenrir knew what to do.

**A/N: Question for anyone who is reading this (huge hug to you if you are). Would you like me to keep updating like this – one chapter every week or so – or would you like me to update several chapters every few weeks? Please tell me!**


	7. The Darkest Path

**The Darkest Path**

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron**

**Summary:**** Julietta Greyback**** journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill**** Weasley**** and his brothers about**** Fenrir Greyback's**** attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken. **

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings. **

**Warning: Alternate Universe, Book 7 disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not attempt to sue me; I have a relative who's a lawyer! **

**A/N: This is my first**** fanfic****, so please be kind! I would be really grateful if you would read and then review to tell me where I'm going wrong and how I can improve. **

**A huge thank you to everyone who read my last chapter, and an especially big thank you to flatliner15 and**** Yami**** H. for reviewing!!**

**Sorry for the ridiculously long time taken to update – I've been at my cousins' for the last few weeks and although they assured me they had a computer, it turned out they didn't have internet access.**

_Eleven o'clock_

"Dunno why we have to do this," Tonks grumbled the second the three of them stepped out into the cold night wind. "Not even _those_ idiots are gonna risk another attack."

"You don't know that," Charlie told her uneasily.

"You actually listen to Mad-Eye, even when he's not around?" Tonks asked with mock outrage. "Shame on you, Charles!"

"Charlie's got a point," Lupin interjected, trying to glare at his 'secret' girlfriend.

Charlie rolled his eyes affectionately. Lupin had been trying his hardest to keep his liaison with Tonks quiet, out of respect for Dumbledore, but he'd been discovered long before he even started the relationship.

Charlie remembered McGonagall's words just after… what happened: _"Dumbledore would have been happier than anybody to think that there was a little more love in the world"._

Charlie clung to the hope that love would be what got everyone out of this.

But then again, he only had to look at Ron to doubt that.

"Same directions as usual?" Lupin murmured in an undertone as they approached the point where they split up. Tonks nodded, and Charlie couldn't decide whether or not to be glad as he headed in the all-too familiar route. He took a deep breath and braced himself for the coming encounter.

When he came out, there was a worrying amount of fury roaring in his eyes – accompanied by an eerie glow of determination.

_Midnight_

"Evening, William," Penelope Clearwater greeted him shyly, while Charlotte Bernard gave him a brief nod of acknowledgement. Bill forced himself to smile at the two women as they stepped out on the second patrol of the evening, deciding _he'd_ volunteer to sort out who went with whom and when on the next patrol.

Bill worried fleetingly what he'd do if one of them took his route, but neither of them did and he had no excuse not to go and meet with the person he was beginning to despise more than any other.

_One o'clock_

"Wotcher, George! Percy," Tonks brightly announced her customary greeting, managing to be cheerful even when she had another patrol to go after this one. George returned her smile, but Percy just gave her a cold look of disapproval and marched on. Tonks sighed. It was going to be a long hour with the two alienated brothers.

When they got to the area where they divided, Percy stalked off without a word to either of them. She turned and raised her eyebrows at George, and was startled to see concern shining in his eyes as he stared after his estranged elder brother.

_Two o'clock _

"Good to see you looking so awake, Frederick," Lupin said, grinning broadly. Fred shot him a glare – or as much of a glare as he could manage when he was still half-asleep – and muttered tetchily about Lupin's use of his full name. The older man just chuckled, feeling unexplainable relief that they all still had enough faith to keep each other's spirits up. He wished fervently that faith would still be with them when it was really needed.

Fred vanished down the middle route when it came to going their separate ways. Lupin exchanged slightly worried looks with Penelope, and hoped Fred's oddly quiet behaviour was just down to lack of sleep.

_Three o'clock _

"Hurry up and stop staring into each other's eyes, you two," George moaned, his own eyes twinkling impishly. "It's my last patrol tonight; I want it over and done with!"

Charlie scowled at his mischievous younger brother and sent an apologetic look Charlotte's way. Her answering smirk made all the blood rush to his ears.

When they got to the point where their paths split, George trailed off down the darkest path with none of his usual confidence. Charlie stared after him, feeling pure hatred sweep through his veins. All he could do was watch helplessly as Julietta Greyback drained the life from his brothers. She was a heartless vampire in all but lineage.

_Four o'clock _

Charlie knew, with a twinge of guilt, the three of them were finished sooner than they should be so, to ease his conscience, he persuaded George and Charlotte to wait outside with him until Bill, Penelope and Tonks turned up.

George – showing an unusual sense of tact (along with a disturbing look of despondency) – had moved away and it was the first time all evening Charlie had been alone with Charlotte Bernard. He studied her intently out of the corner of his eye as he pretended to be staring up at the castle.

"D'you like England?" she asked him abruptly.

"Oh…it's okay," Charlie stammered out, caught off guard. "Miss Romania, though," he added. She grinned at him knowingly.

"I'm the opposite, couldn't wait to get away. England's weird, but cool. And it's good to think I'm helping in the war."

"Didn't think Romania was taking this all that seriously," Charlie remarked, temporarily forgetting the ever-present embarrassment he felt around her.

"Oh, they're not taking _this_ seriously – its Transylvania they're worried about."

Charlie blinked at her in shock. "I didn't think the rebellion was going ahead."

"What rebellion?" George butted in, intrigued.

"Vampire rebellion," Charlie explained, slightly irritated at his younger brother's interruption.

"The vampires are more of a concern just now," Charlotte continued. "Being closer and that."

"Reckon they'll come here?" George demanded.

"Doubt it," Charlotte shrugged. "Flower Clarke's certainly ambitious, but it's 'just' Europe – and possibly Asia – she wants. You're all on a little island of no particular concern. You're safe." Charlie and George felt considerably less reassured when she added, "I think."

"Who's safe?" Bill's curious voice came behind them.

"Not us," Tonks snorted, being put on three patrols in the one night not helping her temper. "There're hundreds of useful things we could be doing right now, but no – we're stuck doing this unimportant patrol scheme…"

"This _is_ important, Nymphadora!" Charlotte snarled unexpectedly, causing everyone to jump. "There're only two major places _he_ would want. One's the Ministry, and that'll fall any day with so many traitors in it, but the other's 'here'. This is of life and death importance!"

Tonks stared at her, startled. "How do you know…" she started to protest.

"Oh, I know all right," Charlotte retorted bitterly. "I know," she repeated, her voice suddenly overflowing with grief.

"Dumbledore left us spells, remember?" Charlie gently reminded her, wanting to free her from whatever was hurting her so much.

"Am I the only one who finds those suspicious?" Penelope suddenly murmured.

Everyone stared at her.

"Suspicious?" Bill repeated testily, giving her an icy look. Charlotte, however, was staring at her in interest.

"Well," Penelope bit her lip anxiously. "It's almost as if…" a deep blush painted its way across her cheeks. "Almost as if he knew what was going to happen."

George was about to tell her how ridiculous she sounded – he was positive it was only her looks Percy dated her for five years ago – but then he realised, with a sickening jolt, that she had a point.

"Think about it," Penelope said quietly. "He left spells to make a passage between here and the Burrow… Why the Burrow? It wasn't even official headquarters at the time… And I _know_ leaving spells for Hogwarts can be justified… but why didn't he just tell one of the teachers? Why didn't he tell S-Snape, he trusted him so much…? Do you think…" she hesitated again, but her eyes shone with determination and she put into words what nearly all of them had been agonising over.

"Do you think he knew he was going to die?"

Julietta Greyback twisted her Land-Turner viciously, resisting the temptation to childishly scream out her frustration. She hated to admit it, but her plan really wasn't working. Another evening had passed – full of threats and her best persuasive techniques – and she wasn't making any progress. If anything, she was stirring the five eldest up to rebel against her. Ron was… different, and if she was honest she didn't actually know what he was thinking. Those eyes – that used to betray his emotions – had closed up to the world, jealously guarding his secrets.

Or was it just her they had closed up against?

She was annoyed to find that gave her a pinprick of pain.

Because Ronald Weasley didn't matter.

But what he could be plotting did.

She was going to have to rethink her scheme, otherwise she would risk total failure.

Luckily, though, she happened to have a back-up plan.

Julietta smiled.

_Always be on your guard._

Fenrir had taught her the 'Plan B' defence, but she knew he wouldn't like what she had thought up this time.

He would feel she had ruined it for him, but hadn't he taken the risk of spoil before? He didn't know what condition they'd be in – they could already have been partially corrupted for all he knew. His sources may not have been accurate…

Under the circumstances, Julietta thought her father would forgive her for having to take drastic action.


	8. Resistance

**Resistance**

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron**

**Summary:**** Julietta Greyback**** journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill**** Weasley**** and his brothers about**** Fenrir Greyback's**** attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken. **

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings. **

**Warning: Alternate Universe, Book 7 disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not attempt to sue me; I have a relative who's a lawyer! **

**A/N: This is my first**** fanfic****, so please be kind! I would be really grateful if you would read and then review to tell me where I'm going wrong and how I can improve. **

Dawn approached, but the three-quarters full moon shone over Hogwarts defiantly, still high in the sky. The sun's rays merged with the moon's beams: fire and ice, preparing for battle.

The only ones awake to witness such an extraordinary sight were the Weasley brothers, but their thoughts certainly weren't on the beauty of the sky.

Bill, Percy and Fred strode back into the castle in an awkward silence. Percy's mouth was tightly compressed and, even if they had been talking to him, his brothers didn't dare ask how his meeting with Julietta had gone.

"Hey," a teasing voice behind them made them whirl round, raising their wands.

"Should've said it louder, Charlie," George said, grinning. "They only jumped about a foot."

"What are you three doing awake?" Percy demanded, scowling.

Charlie and George turned and looked pointedly at Ron, who had been standing to one side and almost seemed to be radiating happiness.

"Because I think there's a way to stop Julietta," he said, eyes glowing.

"Julietta's getting here with a Land-Turner," Ron explained hurriedly as the six of them scoured the library.

"Like a Time-Turner?" Fred's voice came from the aisle ahead.

"It's ancestor to the Time-Turner, but they're for completely different purposes iof course/i."

"Remind me again, Perce, why are you here?"

"Seeing as you left the family and all that."

"He's involved as much as you are," Bill reprimanded the twins.

A brief silence gripped the library.

"Look, anyone actually found anything yet?" Charlie called out and, although he couldn't see him, Rom knew his elder brother's eyebrows would be knitted together in frustration.

"Just a load of facts about when they became illegal," Bill replied. Ron blinked but, before he could ask about that, another voice broke in:

"Hey, I've found something!"

There came the sound of hurried footsteps and Ron headed back down the row to find George looking triumphant.

"It's a book of protection spells," Percy said as he caught sight of it.

"I worked that out," George snarled. "There's got to be something in here we can put round the school."

"Not anything that will stop a Land-Turner," Percy insisted.

"There might be," Charlie intervened, glaring.

"Does anyone, apart from me, know anything about Land-Turners?" Percy said with raised eyebrows.

"They're supposed to have all been destroyed; they're not a common subject," Bill said, in everyone's defence.

"Then none of you will know how to disable it," Percy continued, with a tight smile.

Bill and Charlie grabbed the twins just before they launched themselves on their brother.

"We don't need your help!" Fred blazed.

"We don't need iyou/i," George continued.

"The feeling's mutual," Percy retorted and Ron backed away cautiously as all-out war descended.

'_No wonder Julietta's trapped us,_' he thought bitterly as he swept his gaze over countless titles. '_We're not much of a threat if all of our energy's going into fighting each other.'_ Ron suddenly found himself thinking of Julietta, of her dark-green hair, her ice-blue eyes. Her determined gaze, her furious stare. Proud, deadly, cruel… but so very intriguing. Merlin, if she wasn't Fenrir Greyback's daughter, Ron would think he had a crush on her.

Ron shook his head impatiently, sickened to the pits of his stomach, and focused on the larger books, huddled on the lowest shelf. He dropped to his knees, remembering Hermione's theory about 'thorough searching bringing its rewards'. He'd just assumed the book he'd need would be at eye level, and Ron could vividly picture both of his best friends – though he doubted Harry would have been any better – scolding him for that. With bittersweet warmth in his chest, he shuffled along the floor until his eyes began to blur from squinting at all the tiny lettering. He was just about to get up and head back to his bickering brothers when he noticed a small, dusty book, sheltering between two massive volumes, and pulled it out.

At first glance, it looked like the sort of thing the twins would read. _The Essences of Havoc_ looped across the cover in faded gold script, but the plainer writing underneath held Ron's attention:

**How To Render Magical Devices Dormant**

"This is good," Percy admitted, flicking through the pages in awe. Bill, leaning over his shoulder, glanced up and winked at Ron.

"None of them can be made instantly, though," Percy said, frowning. Charlie clenched his fists, suddenly bearing a strong resemblance to the twins.

"As long as the one we need doesn't take longer than two weeks," George pointed out, narrowing his eyes at the back of Percy's head.

"Just two weeks left?" Bill asked, dismayed. As everyone stared at him in disbelief, he hastened to add, "What? The Wedding preparations have been keeping me busy!"

"Oh!" Charlie exclaimed, looking embarrassed. "I didn't realize you were still…" his voice trailed off as Bill's eyes darkened.

"Why wouldn't I be going ahead with it?"

"You're supposed to remain here," Percy informed him, the only one who hadn't broken out in a blush, "not slacking off whenever you feel like it."

"That spell looks like it might work on Land-Turners," Ron said loudly, voice rising in excitement and effectively breaking off any argument.

"It takes twenty-four hours to work," Fred read out, not sounding so excited. "Something instant would be better."

"Yeah, well, we can't be picky," Charlie said. "And how are we gonna get… whatever we make onto the Land-Turner?"

"Face that when we come to it," George shrugged.

"Your problem," Percy said, glaring, "is that you're not taking this seriously."

"Just because we're not obsessed," Fred retorted.

"Is it too much to ask for you three to _try_ and get on?" Bill snapped. Ron sighed, and decided they'd spent far too long in the same space.

"Maybe we could go look for something, like a spell, that'll get the potion on the Land-Turner," he offered. Glowering at each other, his elder brothers got up to get some much needed space between them.

"Hang on," Fred said abruptly. "Mad-Eye would probably know something."

"He probably would," Charlie agreed, however he added sternly, "but we're not going to him. Or anyone else in the Order, for that matter."

Fred and George both raised an eyebrow.

"It's our mess to sort out," Bill said firmly, and everyone moved away rather than remind Bill that it was him being scarred by Fenrir Greyback that had started all of this.

Ron sat down when the rest of them had left and began skimming through _The Essences of Havoc_. He had begun to read the section on _Applying the Essences_ when a shadow appeared on the page.

"Tell me again," Ron glanced up to see his furious elder brother, "why do I have to be here?"

Ron held Percy's gaze. "Because you know the most about Land-Turners," he said, in what he hoped was a rational tone.

Percy frowned, temporarily distracted. "Ron, why do you think Julietta told you how she's getting here?"

"We met…"

"A meeting over ten years ago doesn't justify it!" With that Percy swung round and marched off, leaving Ron to think that over.

Ron couldn't help feeling glad the beady-eyed librarian wasn't around (the gossip indicated a family emergency) when the sounds of yet another heated argument drifted over.

"I won't go to your Wedding, William, and that's final!" Percy hissed. Ron couldn't detect any regret in his voice, just pure coldness.

"How long's this stupid fight going to go on for, Perce?" Bill asked, keeping his tone calm and reasonable.

"Stupid?" Percy echoed. Ron could tell he had his chilling smile on. "Oh, it'll never end."

Everyone in the room knew that was a promise, and no one could remember Percy Ignatius Weasley ever breaking a promise.

"Good riddance," Ron heard Fred say, though he had waited until Percy's retreating footsteps couldn't be heard.

"We don't need him," Charlie insisted.

"We've got the potion method," Bill agreed, albeit reluctantly.

"It might take a day longer to mix, tops," Fred said.

"We've got all we need," George finished, "and we can sort out how to get the potion on after we've made it."

They all left the library, leaving it at that. Even though everyone knew it would take all six of them to do this, they'd never admit to it.

As Ron hurried along to breakfast – Ginny was suspicious enough without him being late for a meal – it dawned on him that he want to discover how Julietta's lips tasted just as much as he wanted to end her game of threats and persuasion.

The sun had reached its peak in Transylvania, and shone its rays over the land, bathing anyone in its path with a warm glow – and that happened to be most of the population. But there was one who lurked in the penthouse apartment of a block of flats, one who kept the curtains drawn tight during all hours of the day.

Donald Hagan yawned for the second time in just a few minutes as he scanned the passage in Latin again, still not making any sense of it. The countless candles flickering playfully around his desk didn't help; they lulled him into a sense of peace and contentment. His grey eyes glowed in the firelight and the flames brought out the glimmers of red hidden in his light brown locks. Donald sat folded up, quite a feat for someone so long and lanky. His muscles ached, his eyes blurred and his head protested loudly. He was just about to get up and fall into his beckoning coffin when a noise behind him put an end to that.

It was a crackling sound, not particularly loud, but in the graveyard stillness of the flat it sounded like a gun shot going off. Donald's chair clattered to the floor as he sprung to his feet and hurried along to the living room, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knelt beside the huge, dusty fireplace, questions buzzing in his mind and fear tightening round his heart.

Donald waited impatiently, trembling, for the face to take shape amidst the glowing logs. He opened his mouth, puzzling over what was the best question to start with.

The eyes formed first, clear and curious, and they seemed familiar to him in a way he couldn't describe. Shrugging off his apprehension, he was about to demand to know how his parents were when the rest of the features shifted into place.

The unmistakeable face of Arthur Weasley smiled up at him. "Hello, Donald," he said with absolute calm.

Donald sat back on his heels, eyes wide, mouth still hanging open, face even paler than usual.

"What… what are you… how did… Dad had a password on that network!"

"I guessed it," Arthur said simply. "Took me a while, but I got there. Your dad forgets we were friends for most of our lives."

Colour began to return to Donald's cheeks. "You shouldn't be here!" he hissed. "Your kind isn't welcome."

"My kind?" Arthur echoed, looking as though he'd been slapped. "Donald, we're second cousins!"

"Not any more," he replied, voice cool and confident. "Not since you sided with _them_."

"We're family no matter what side we're on."

Donald didn't favour that with an answer.

"What do you want?" he said finally.

Arthur gave him a sorrowful look that he ignored.

"I need to talk to Draculine."

"Dad's busy," Donald shot back, not bothering to add that Draculine would never lower himself to talk to his cousin.

"Please," Arthur said urgently. "It's important."

"What, and the stuff Dad's doing at the moment isn't?"

"You know about Bill, then?" Arthur said, all of a sudden dangerously angry. "You know what Fenrir Greyback did to him!"

Donald bit his lip, flustered. "Of course," he bluffed.

Arthur gave him a look that chilled him to the bone.

"He's your third cousin," he whispered. "He's family."

"Not any more," Donald insisted, but he almost looked unhappy at that.

Arthur stayed silent for a few moments. "Ron still considers you family, you know."

Donald snapped his head up in shock, not realizing he'd been caught out. "He does?" he demanded. "What does he say?"

Arthur smiled at the teenager's eagerness. "Well, he doesn't blame you, or your family, for what happened to Bill."

Donald hesitated. "How is Bill?" he asked, avoiding his gaze.

Arthur regarded him. "He'll never be the same."

"How's… everyone else?"

"Shaken of course," Arthur replied, watching Donald's curiosity grow.

"Why do you want to see Dad?"

Arthur paused, as though unsure whether or not to confide. "I need to talk to him about Fenrir Greyback. And about Bill."

Donald nodded, trying to look as if this meant something to him. Arthur wasn't fooled.

"I'm sorry, Donald," he said gently, "but I can't tell you very much. Can you just get your dad to contact me? Or tell him I need to speak to him."

Donald couldn't believe this. "He won't speak to you while you're on separate sides… Hang on. Why don't you join us?" he blurted out. "You're pureblood, you'd be accepted instantly…"

"Donald," Arthur cut him off. "I'd rather die than join the Dark Lord or Fenrir Greyback."

"You will die if you don't join!"

"Death isn't what we should be scared off," Arthur spoke quietly. "Why don't you join us? We'd give you protection." He saw it would be a waste of breath to continue. Donald's eyes had widened and filled with horror.

"I'm no traitor," he hissed.

"Answer me honestly," Arthur said urgently. "Do you have any idea what you're getting caught up in?"

Donald laughed bitterly. "Caught up in?" he repeated. "I'm a _prisoner_ in my own home! I haven't been out this accursed place for years!"

"You haven't left this flat?"

"I meant Transylvania," Donald corrected. "My homeland. I'm stuck here while my parents are off gallivanting round America or wherever the hell they are."

Arthur blinked at him. "Draculine's in Europe, and I think Flower's in Asia."

Donald stared, his eyes full of hurt. "What am I caught up in?" he asked, voice soft and childlike.

"I wish I knew," Arthur answered grimly. "I think your dad and uncle…"

"Uncle?"

"Fenrir Greyback?"

"Oh, him." Donald made a dismissive gesture.

"Well, I think they're planning something. Something that'll affect all of us."

"What?" he leaned forward intently.

"I don't know." Arthur's tone made Donald suspicious.

"But you have an idea?"

Arthur looked torn, but eventually said, "I'm guessing, I don't know for certain. But if it were me… I'd want revenge."

"If _what_ were you? Look, what's going on?"

Arthur suddenly became agitated. "I think someone's coming," he muttered. "Donald, if you need anything… um… do you have an owl?" Donald shook his head.

"I don't rely on the wings of an owl," he said, but with far less haughtiness than Arthur had expected.

"Could you contact me through this fireplace then?"

Donald gave him a small smile and, instantly, he looked friendlier, kinder, less like a Hagan.

"Just give me the password," Donald assured him. He crouched down further and Arthur whispered it into his ear.

Donald swore his heart stopped beating for a moment. He pulled his head back to demand an answer but it was too late. Arthur's face vanished from the logs. Donald was once again alone, and he knew he wouldn't be getting to sleep any time soon.


	9. In Too Deep

**In Too Deep **

**Main Pairing: OC/Ron**

**Summary:**** Julietta Greyback**** journeys to Hogwarts in the dead of the night; with the sole intention of confronting Bill**** Weasley**** and his brothers about**** Fenrir Greyback's**** attack. However, she finds herself a little... distracted by the youngest son. And so begins a tale of love and hatred, life and death, where friendships are cemented and hearts broken. **

**Rating applies to later chapters, as do most of the warnings. **

**Warning: Alternate Universe, Book 7 disregarded, Character Death, DH Spoilers, Sexual Situations, Violence **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not attempt to sue me; I have a relative who's a lawyer! **

**A/N: This is my first**** fanfic****, so please be kind!**

**Sorry for taking a ridiculously long time to update, I couldn't get this chapter right. I'm still not entirely happy with it, but I decided to be brave and post it. **

**Thanks to everyone who's read this so far, reviewed, put me on their alerts list etc. It means so much!**

"_Ron? Thanks for coming. I just wanted to let you know… I've heard from Harry and Hermione." _

"_Oh! How are they? Are they okay?" _

"_As far as I can make out. It's not long or specific – obviously. But they're both still alive, and they seem to have a lead on something, though I don't know what." _

'_A Horcrux,' Ron thought, feeling the ground lurch below him. He knew it for certain, every fibre in his body was screaming it at him, glorifying in his shock. 'They already have a lead on a Horcrux,' the smug voice in his head whispered. 'They've only been gone a few weeks, but your absence hasn't delayed them at all. You were best friends for six years, but you've been tossed out in just a few weeks.' _

"_Ron? You look really pale. Are you okay?" _

"_I'm, er, fine. Thanks, Lupin. Um, I've got to go."_

"_Ron, wait. Please. They really are sorry-" _

"_I know. Um, thanks."_

"_Ron, wait!"_

_At least Harry and Hermione were still alive. Ron tried to convince himself he was pleased about this because it meant that he could kill them himself when they got back. _

"Hey, Ron. Ron!"

Ron looked up in surprise to find Ginny staring at him in clear annoyance.

"I've been talking to you for the last five minutes, didn't you realize?"

"Sorry, Gin." Ron rubbed his forehead wearily. "Just busy thinking."

"You must be out of practise, huh?" she teased, getting to her feet. Ron managed a smile in response.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I'm just gonna go rescue Bill from Phlegm and get my dance. You don't mind, do you?"

"You've still got the energy to dance?" Ron said in disbelief. Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Boys!" she said scornfully. "Harry was just the same…" Her face abruptly closed off and she disappeared onto the heaving dance floor without another word.

Ron settled back on his chair, relieved his sister wasn't dragging him up again. He'd spent the afternoon with her – a kind big brotherly move he was now severely regretting. His feet were killing him, and his hair was plastered to his forehead, partly to do with the sunlight that had been stampeding down all day, partly to do with the number of energetic dances the band had been playing. They'd begun the slow dances now, and Ron watched the crowd and tried not to feel resentful of all the radiant couples.

From the tables at the side there came the bubble of chatter: at long last a blanket of calm seemed to have settled over everyone, though there were still some anxious expressions. The sky was clear and bright, despite evening creeping in, and all the dark clouds had been chased away.

Ron was still impressed that Bill had got permission for this: he and Ginny were allowed to leave school for the day (admittedly on a Saturday), along with nearly half of the Hogwarts Patrol: Bill, Charlie, Fred and George. He supposed the school had been quite happy for them to leave for a short period of time. Many people left daily due to family emergencies.

The number of Wedding guests was significantly smaller than Fleur had insisted it would be, but Ron thought it was brave of people to turn up at all. You-Know-Who had been launching attacks all over the country, with nothing at all to connect them except total slaughter, and no one could predict where he'd be next. He doubted one huge attack would have been nearly as effective.

The crowd parted slightly, and Ron caught sight of his eldest brother and sister-in-law, pressed to each other, lips centimetres apart and clearly oblivious to all around them. Ron grimaced, and hoped they weren't going to go into anything graphic. The memory of the last kiss he'd seen was still firmly painted in his mind.

Bill and Fleur glowed like the sun and the moon, but Ron found it didn't hurt his eyes to look at them any more. In a small corner of his mind, one that had managed to hide from the image of a certain female, he had agonized about seeing Fleur.

(As in a tiny drop of worry in a sea of stress.)

Of seeing her and succumbing to her beauty. Of feeling lust and envy sweep through his veins, driving him to insanity.

But then Fleur was just that. Fleur. His extremely pretty sister-in-law, but that was it. Not his crush, not his dream girl, not even (Merlin forbid) a potential love interest. Her hair was as silky as ever, but it wasn't a curling mass of brown locks. Her willowy figure was still seductive, but not shy and blossoming. Hermione could never compare to Fleur in beauty, but Ron found he wasn't craving that. What he wanted was a passionate argument, what he missed was a tender gesture. Taking Hermione's hand in reality was so much more fulfilling that anything he'd fantasized about doing to Fleur.

Hermione had filled a void in his life that he'd never even realized was empty, but now it was and he was painfully aware of it with each passing moment. He wanted to hate Harry for taking her away from him, but the truth was he missed Harry just as much. Harry had been the brother Ron hadn't known he wanted, the best friend he hadn't known he longed for. Harry had his loyalty as much as Hermione had his love.

But when it came to Fleur's dark blue eyes, once mesmerizing, all Ron could think of was how much nicer pale blue ones were.

Charlie was waltzing with Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur's little sister, who barely came up to his shoulder. Ron could see Charlie's mouth moving and Gabrielle beaming in response, tossing her hair in a way that was too flirty for an eleven-year-old. He rolled his eyes. The Delacour girls were all the same, but he knew Gabrielle didn't stand a chance. Ron had noticed Charlie stuttering and stammering in Charlotte Bernard's presence.

Fred was twirling Angelina Jordan round at high speed, despite the slow dance playing, both of them laughing, Fred looking more alive than he had in days. Their skin glowed in the light, and they looked at each other in a way that was eerily similar to Bill and Fleur.

George was dancing slowly with the girl from their shop, Verity, both of them staring into each other's eyes. Verity had a wide smile on her face and, even from this distance; Ron could see George's eyes glowing. Not to be outdone by his brothers, George had the same expression on his face as Fred and Bill.

In a distant corner of his mind, Ron could see Harry and Hermione dancing. Harry would be grinning and blushing, trying his hardest not to step on Hermione's feet. Hermione would be beaming that content smile of hers, looking dazzling, and giggling fondly at her best friend, her boyfriend, her fiancé.

(Ron doubted he'd ever get over that. Why the hell did Harry have to propose to her?)

Ron sighed as he caught himself looking around for the last couple. He didn't have a clue how Percy was coping, back at Hogwarts, but he knew he shouldn't be worrying about his estranged elder brother this much. Percy hadn't spoken to any of them since that morning in the library, and the twins and Charlie were delighted about it. Bill seemed to have been hoping Percy might turn up for the wedding, but it hadn't happened. For someone who was now married and had worked as a Cursebreaker for the last few years, Bill could be very naïve.

The five of them had started work on the potion two days ago, but even Ron could tell it wasn't going well. The other four had been so busy with Patrol duties, and as for _him_. The method could have been a muggle instruction book for all the sense he was making of it.

Ron was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of running out of time, but he refused to dwell on it. If this didn't work, then he didn't have a clue what was going to happen.

Soon the potion would be ready, it had to be. They'd have to get it on her Land-Turner (how?) and then they'd have to wait for precisely twenty-four hours. And then what? Would Julietta be in Hogwarts grounds when it failed? If she wasn't, then they probably wouldn't ever see her again. Pure relief flooded Ron's body, and he definitely didn't feel a twinge of regret.

But if she was in Hogwarts, what did they do with her? Ron wondered if Greyback really would go through hell and worse to claim his beloved daughter. Of course, they could just kill her, one less spawn of evil…

Inexplicably, he suddenly felt cold all over.

Okay, so it wasn't the best plan, but it was all they had to go on. They'd make enemies of the Greybacks, but this was war. Enemies were going to be made, no matter what.

Scanning the tables idly, Ron caught sight of his dad, slumped at a table with a wine glass in his hand. For a second, icy panic shot through him, but then he realized his dad's eyes were too thoughtful and his posture too steady to be drunk. Remembering his mum's slight complaints about her husband being distracted, Ron headed over and slid into the seat next to him.

Arthur took a few seconds to shake himself from his reverie before he glanced over and smiled welcomingly. Ron fixed him with his most determined look (the one that he'd perfected from hours of observing Mum and Ginny) that shrieked, "Tell me."

"The Minister threatened to turn up," Arthur said in an undertone, leaning forward to whisper in his youngest son's ear.

"Threatened?"

"Offered," Arthur amended quickly. "I meant offered. You haven't seen him?"

Ron shrugged. "Wouldn't recognize him. I didn't read any of the articles."

His dad stared at him, looking stunned.

Ron looked down at his lap and fiddled with the white tablecloth. "There were a lot of articles, you know. About Harry and Hermione. About them getting together." He tried to make his voice sound casual. Arthur shot him a sympathetic look, and changed the subject.

"He's a tall man. Blonde hair. Young looking, though he's in his late forties. Green eyes. Pale, very pale. I've never seen him in anything other than a suit…"

Ron yawned pointedly, wondering why his dad was so obsessed with this guy. Arthur shook his head at him, though his eyes twinkled with amusement.

Ron was about to say he'd never seen the man, when an image exploded into his mind. He frowned and asked, tripping over the words in his urgency to get them out, "Does he have a scarring on the side of his neck that's a bit like a cross?"

Arthur looked torn between surprise and horror. "How did you know that?"

"Er… newspaper picture!" Ron said, clutching gratefully at the lie.

Or what he thought was a lie. The image of the blonde man with the scar leaning over him had already begun to fade. Maybe it was just a picture, not a memory. Maybe it wasn't even the same man.

Arthur's eyes flickered with suspicion and Ron decided it was time to steer the conversation in other directions.

"So why'd we have a new Minister, dad? And how come you don't like him?"

"I don't not like him," Arthur protested. He gave up under Ron's piercing gaze. He leaned forward again and spoke so softly Ron had to strain to hear him.

"I just think he's too comfortable with the Dark Lord."

The sun was beating down on him, his dress robes were slightly damp with sweat, but Ron had to fight the temptation to shiver.

"How?" he croaked out. Arthur hesitated, looking round at the people nearest them. Ron hauled out his wand and mumbled, "Muffliato," trying his hardest not to think of Harry. Arthur glanced at him curiously, but evidently decided to trust his son's spell.

"Well, he seemed to want everyone to know about Harry and Hermione," he began, still speaking softly, his eyes flickering around.

Ron's eyes widened. "That's right," he said slowly. "They'd wanted to keep it quiet."

"All those newspaper articles. It's like he wanted people to know Hermione is Harry's weakness."

"I don't think Hermione could ever be described as a weakness," Ron thought out loud, smiling slightly bitterly.

"Mad-Eye said – oh, months back – that if the Ministry fell, it would be a sign of You-Know-Who's rise to power. His armies are growing, people are terrified, he's already nearly as strong as last time. But the Ministry _hasn't_ fallen."

Ron felt completely numb. He could hear the words, but they weren't getting through.

"Your mother didn't want you – or Ginny – to know this. But I think you're old enough to handle it. Keeping you in ignorance isn't going to help." Arthur finished, watching his youngest son carefully.

"What's Mad-Eye said?" Ron asked, a little desperately.

"Nothing yet, but I know he's concerned. He's been making a lot of plans for the Order, and carrying out secret investigations into Ministry workers. And he's setting up connections abroad, trying to get alliances with people. He's worried. I think he'd rather the Ministry fell, just so we know what's going on."

"So things are bad?" Ron didn't know why he was asking this when the answer was obvious, but he suddenly wanted to be treated like a child, sheltered from the truth. His dad watched him, pain burning in his eyes.

Then all Ron could think of was that Harry and Hermione were out there, Merlin knows where though, facing danger and death at every turn and he was here, making astute judgements about their situation.

"What can I do?" he demanded, almost surprised at how eager he sounded.

Arthur didn't smile patronisingly, or tell him off. He continued looking steadily at his youngest son and addressed him as an equal:

"Look after your sister. She looks…well, better today actually, but even so. And, well, this sounds strange, but look out for your brothers. I don't know what it is; I can't put my finger on it," Arthur stared at the crowd, quickly picking out where his sons were as only a father can. "They seem, I don't know, different?"

"Really?" Ron did his best to sound astonished. "I'm sure it's nothing." Arthur looked at him dubiously. "But I'll keep an eye on them."

Arthur smiled gratefully, and then gripped his forehead and bent over, wincing in pain, his breath coming out in uneven gasps.

"Dad?" Ron hissed in horror, his mouth gaping open.

Arthur's only response was a low moan.

"Dad! Should I go get someone?" Ron said, voice starting to rise in panic as he thought over how much wine his dad had really had.

"No, no," Arthur forced out. "Just stay here. Shield me?"

Ron blinked but shifted his body so his father wasn't quite so conspicuous. Groans and whimpers were starting to escape from Arthur's mouth, he sounded like a wild animal in distress – and far too sober to be suffering from anything alcohol-related.

"Dad, what is it?" his voice came out more pleading than he wanted.

"S'nothing," Arthur gasped. Another wave of pain rushed through him and he clutched his head tighter.

"Yeah, sure looks like it," Ron snarled, looking round and realizing no one was paying them any attention, then cursing quietly when he remembered the Muffliato spell. He hesitated over what was the best way of attracting his mum's attention.

"Just… getting…look…into his mind…"

Ron's mouth fell open and he thought once again of Harry.

"It'll be…over soon… just stay with… me…" Ron's pulse began to quicken. He could 'deal' with Harry and his freaky visions, but his own father? Faced with no other option, he rubbed his dad's back slowly, in what he hoped was a soothing way. Arthur cried out involuntarily and words began to bubble out of his mouth like lava:

"Plan… Fenrir… Draculine… Hogwarts… Donald…. Julietta…"

Ron couldn't stop himself from stiffening at the all-too familiar names. He wanted to shake his dad back into consciousness and demand an explanation but, tempting as it might be, he knew from experience with Harry it was better to let the thing run its course.

Ron couldn't help wondering, as he tried to comfort his dad instead of his best friend, if Harry had had any of his visions. Would they have been helpful? How would Hermione have coped? If he had been there, would he have been at all useful? Ron pondered this, but he couldn't think of anything that he could do, other than Chess and Quidditch (and a load of good they would be) that Hermione couldn't do better. A wave of hatred poisoned his mind, and Ron twitched in frustration. He loved his friends, he hated them. Why couldn't he just stay with one emotion?

Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only a few seconds, Arthur straightened up, looking tense and pained, but managed a smile. Ron stared at him, outraged.

"What," he said, voice quivering, "was that?" _Don't you dare go all spooky psychic on me, Dad!_

Arthur looked at him thoughtfully for another few seconds, and then sighed.

"Ron," he took a deep breath, staring into his son's eyes, mentally trying to convey the importance of this. "I don't think Greyback's attack was coincidental."

For a moment, Ron just sat there, wondering how Julietta had managed to attack someone and how he'd missed it. Ah.

A landslide of horror came down on him and thoughts rushed through his head, a jumble of emotions tightened round his heart. Coincidental? Wasn't coincidental? How? Why? What? What did Fenrir Greyback have against Bill? Wait, what had Julietta said?

"_Your father helped kill my mum."_

He'd dismissed it at the time, but… could she have been right? No! His dad wasn't a murderer, couldn't be. _And what was with that mind thing that had just happened?_

What in the name of Merlin was going on?

Arthur's slight cough reminded Ron he wasn't alone and he glanced up and then started, taken aback at how intense his father's eyes were. "I haven't told the others this, but…"

"Hey, you two!" They both jumped and twisted round to see Charlie yelling at them, a grin stretched wide across his face. "Come on over, we're starting the speeches!"

Ron would usually have been thrilled his second eldest brother was back to his cheerful, upbeat self, but just then he could have hit Charlie for his timing.

He turned back to his dad and gabbled, "Why? What's going on? Why are you telling _me_?"

He could feel his mum's narrowed eyes on the back of his head, confusion and undoubtedly suspicion written on her face, and Ron turned round to smile and wave off her concerns, his teeth gritted all the while. Just before he did, however, he saw his dad's lips form the words, "Because you're involved."

All he could think of for the rest of the evening was that he, Ronald Weasley, was in too deep.

* * *

The night sky beckoned from the window: dark and familiar, but with the promise of discovery and adventure. Julietta didn't miss the longing look Donald gave it, but decided not to comment. Donald's mood nearly always swung like a pendulum at night: he would go from reading leisurely to pacing frenziedly and back again. But _this_ was extreme, even for him.

"When was the last time you Changed?" she ventured, wincing at how pompous she sounded.

Donald stopped his pacing and glowered at her. "I haven't felt like it, all right?"

The silence stretched between them. "I'd never not want to be a werewolf," she said, the quiet beginning to disconcert her.

"Yeah, well, you only Change once a month. And there's not a potion to stop Werewolf Change anyway."

Julietta's eyes widened. "I wouldn't take it even if there was one," she said firmly. "Dad doesn't like potions that interfere with Changes."

"Your dad doesn't like anything that lets people like us lead a normal life," Donald snorted.

"I won't slap you as Dad considers you family," she retorted coolly. "Besides, your dad doesn't either."

Donald ignored her, and returned to his pacing.

"Look, what's your problem!" Julietta snarled, jumping to her feet. "You've been acting weird ever since I arrived."

Donald cast an anxious look at the fireplace and looked back at her, nibbling on his bottom lip. His eyes suddenly took on a steely glint and he blurted out:

"What happened with your dad and-"

He was cut off by a whoosh from the fireplace. Julietta gasped in joy and rushed over. She was dimly aware of Donald sighing and flinging himself onto an armchair but then Draculine stepped out, dusting ash off from his shoulders. He looked a little strained; it was clear from the slight shadows under his eyes and the deeper creases on his face but he gave her a wide smile just before she wrapped her arms around him. He glanced over her shoulder at his son, who sat slumped in the chair, and the two males gave each other tight smiles, Draculine's stiffening body indicating irritation at his son's human form.

Fenrir was the next to stumble out of the fireplace, looking dazed but brightening when his daughter flung herself into his arms. Anxious, questioning words gushed out of her mouth in a torrent and the two most important people in her life were shaking their heads at her fondly, but then their gazes fixed on the window and she spun round.

The window had slid open in spite of the locks and everyone's eyes were on Flower Clarke/Hagan as she sashayed into the room. Julietta couldn't help shrinking back against her father. Flower was a tall woman, even without her killer heels, towering over Donald and Julietta and slithering up to Draculine and Fenrir. Her long blonde hair plunged to her shoulders and her green eyes surveyed the room, piercing and unreadable. She was agile and graceful, Julietta had never seen her stumble or trip, and carried herself as if she were a Queen – which she was, in a way, of the Vampires. Draculine, her husband, was the only vampire superior to her, a fact she was well aware of.

"Shall we start then?" she snapped out, gliding over to the sofa, with an elegance any dancer would envy, and settling down on it. Her only welcome was a flicker of her lips which might have been a smile, or just her facial muscles twitching.

"Glad you could make it, Fenrir, Julietta," Draculine said, choosing to ignore his wife's arrival. "Take a seat?" he offered, gesturing to the black leather. Flower crossed her legs disdainfully. Fenrir and Julietta both sat down as far away from her as possible.

"I came back here a few days ago," Draculine drew everyone's attention back to him as he leaned against the wall and scrutinized them. Fenrir and Julietta both watched him while Donald eyed the paintings above the fireplace and Flower inspected her fangs in her hand mirror. Draculine cleared his throat and continued, "Just to check up on the place, you understand. I found out that… Arthur Weasley had got in touch with Donald. He'd wanted him to join _their_ side." Draculine spoke as though the words were causing him a great deal of pain. Even Flower had taken notice and looked nearly as scandalized as Fenrir. Julietta sneaked a glance at Donald and saw that he looked sulky and irritated, suggesting that he hadn't volunteered much of that information.

"Weasley seems to think he can persuade Donald to abandon his heritage. That opens up a coffin of opportunity for us." Julietta smiled her agreement, as she always did with anything Draculine proposed, and Fenrir nodded thoughtfully, though he was as ensnared as she was. Donald, on the other hand, looked as though he wanted to Turn someone and she wondered what had gotten into him.

"What were you thinking of?" Flower pressed, eyeing her husband with grudging interest. Recovering from the surprise, Draculine tried to look as though his wife asking his opinion wasn't a rare event as he answered, "Sending him to Hogwarts?"

Donald's eyes snapped up and he stared at his father, looking like a newly turned vampire did when they saw sunlight approaching.

Fenrir jumped out of his seat in excitement. "If he was trapped at Hogwarts-"

"We'd get permission for an attack," Draculine finished, with a confident smile.

"You can't lie and pretend I'm trapped!" Donald protested.

Draculine and Fenrir both blinked at him.

"So, how's he going to get to Hogwarts?" Fenrir continued, bringing Draculine's attention back to him.

"I could take him with my Land-Turner," Julietta offered, glowing when Draculine beamed at her.

"Hogwarts probably has even more barriers now," Fenrir pointed out. "I doubt even a Land-Turner will get through that."

"I expect it would work," Draculine said lightly, avoiding Julietta's eyes. Fenrir narrowed his eyes, not looking at all keen on her going anywhere near that place.

"And your Leaders are going to fall for that?" Flower asked Fenrir, lips pursed in scorn. He drew back his lip and all but snarled at her.

"My best friend's son, the vampire deputy, is being held against his will. Of course they'll be eager to help out."

"Where am I supposed to go, _if_ I go there?" Donald said, scowling.

"One of the Patrols will pick you up," Julietta said, thinking ahead for possible loopholes.

"Patrols?" Fenrir and Flower said together, staring at her.

"I expect one of the Weasleys will look after you, being… family and all," Draculine spat out the word as though it was a disgusting swear word, trying to steer the conversation back into safe waters.

Donald almost seemed to brighten at that, but Julietta convinced herself she was imagining it.

"What do you know about Hogwarts security?" Fenrir demanded, staring at his daughter in rapidly growing horror.

Julietta couldn't think up a lie fast enough.

"Julietta Sky Greyback, you wouldn't… promise me… what have you… I made my decision… what the hell are you planning!"

Julietta widened her eyes in her best representation of Total Purity. "Nothing," she said softly. "I was just talking to Draculine about Hogwarts and he told me about what it's like now."

"Which I got from an old friend of ours," Draculine said quickly, as Fenrir's blazing gaze jerked over to him.

"Who?"

"Er… Miles Falcon."

Out of the corner of her eye, Julietta thought she saw Flower stiffen. But then she looked again, and Flower was as unruffled and refined as before.

Fenrir relaxed. "You didn't get a stake through your heart?" he said, making an attempt to smile.

"Not from mind telepathy," Draculine smirked. Fenrir looked impressed.

"You didn't mention it was improving!"

Draculine shrugged modestly. Flower looked as if she was sucking on lemons.

"I wouldn't lie to you, Daddy," Julietta said, her face angelic. "You told me to leave it to you and I will."

Fenrir smiled sheepishly at her and relaxed. "I know. I'm just getting paranoid."

"I don't blame you," Flower put in sweetly. "You've only got another week or two of Leadership and Freedom. Maybe even of life."

Draculine's lips tightened. "Anyway," he said stiffly. "We should probably send Donald to Hogwarts in a day or two. You," he said, staring hard at Donald, "tell whatever blood traitor you meet first that you and I had an argument. You've decided to join their side. The first chance you get, go to a fireplace and get in contact. Leave a message if no one's here. I trust you can set up a fireplace?" Donald glared. "Excellent. So we're all agreed?"

Fenrir and Julietta nodded. "Fenrir, you and I will return tomorrow night – oh, the moon – the morning after that then. If that's okay. Donald, stay here. Flower, you probably won't be needed for this. Just act the concerned mother when word gets back to you, if you can. Julietta, could you come back here at the same time as us?"

Julietta opened her mouth, already going over her excuse, but Donald beat her to it.

"Do you really think the Dark Lord will let you leave so often?"

Draculine looked puzzled, then his face cleared. "Oh, him. We left a few days ago."

Donald gaped. "I don't think you can do that," he spluttered. "I think it's a lifetime of service or death."

Draculine and Fenrir laughed. "We're _Leaders_, Donald. We have our followers, he has his. We can co-operate peacefully together."

"When did you get so interested in service to the Dark Lord, anyway?" Fenrir put in, eyeing Donald's left arm.

"He's been studying it, of course," Flower replied coolly. "Donald learns through reading, not through rash decisions." She stared meaningfully at Julietta. "As deputy, he needs to have as wide a knowledge of other cultures as possible."

"Julietta could be deputy one day too," Draculine replied, fingers twitching.

Fenrir laughed. "She will be when the Third Leader goes. Time to go, Draculine?" he asked abruptly.

Draculine nodded, an unreadable expression in his eyes, and Fenrir hugged his daughter goodbye.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't," he muttered in her ear, before straightening up and heading over to the fireplace. He disappeared in a blare of green light and Flower slid open the window and fluttered out, with a flippant wave for her son and a calculating smile for her husband.

Draculine turned to Julietta and gave her a serene smile. As they hugged, he bent down to whisper into her ear:

"How's it going?"

Julietta longed to spill out everything that had been bothering her for the last few days.

"They'll lie for me," she replied, barely moving her lips, pulling back slightly to meet his eyes.

He sighed as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "That's… that's… that's great. Thank you. You've done so well. And you didn't even need me to threaten for you!" Julietta just smiled demurely. "Did you remember to tell someone about your Land-Turner, too?"

Julietta nodded. "Just one person."

Draculine beamed at her. "One will suffice." Julietta wanted to ask why they needed to know about her Land-Turner, but she had complete trust in Draculine so it really wasn't necessary.

As he was about to leave, she grabbed his arm and hissed, not caring if Donald heard, "How's Dad coping?"

Draculine's eyes mirrored her own fear and concern. "He seems almost resigned to the fact he's got mere days left of protection," he said, dropping his voice in order to protect this shameful secret.

Julietta closed her eyes to quench her tears, and then felt a burning gaze on the back of her head. She turned round to meet a pair of disbelieving eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Julie," Draculine said, stepping into the fireplace. "And you too, Donald," he added as an afterthought. He vanished in a swirl of emerald and black.

Donald and Julietta kept eye contact.

"So," Donald said, eyes innocent. "What happened between your dad and Bill Weasley?"

Julietta started, taken aback. "What? Oh yeah. Dad attacked that and-" _Wait. If he doesn't know, then maybe he's not supposed to…"_

"You're very distracted, Julie," he said, his eyes dancing with excitement as he took a step closer to her. "Anyone I should know about?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she reprimanded in her best imitation of Flower's cutting tones.

"That's great, Julietta," he whispered, gentle smile showing his sincerity. "I just hope he's a Fenrir Greyback supporter."

Julietta blanched. "I haven't met anyone," she hissed, before adding, "I haven't, but don't you dare tell your parents or my dad."

Donald scoffed, "You don't need to worry. They'd probably tear me to pieces for not keeping your attention."

"They're still keen on the idea?" she said, unable to hide her dismay. He gave her a pitying look, and she resisted the urge to hit something. Donald's narrowed eyes told her he was still curious, so she turned away and carefully ran over her plan in her head.

For some reason, that had absolutely nothing to do with a certain red-haired blue-eyed someone, the plan didn't seem as good as others she'd had. But she didn't have any other option. The Werewolf Questioning was going to happen in just other a week. And despite her bribes and threats, she hadn't been able to extinguish the flare of defiance residing in all the Weasley males. She had to do this, she had to let them know they would be playing by her rules.

"I might be late for our next meeting," she told Donald, as she cupped the Land-Turner in her hands. "Cover for me? Tell them I'm hunting something particularly difficult."

She refused to acknowledge that, this time; she might be in too deep.


	10. It Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You

**It Hurts Me More Than It Hurts You**

There really is no excuse for taking such an insane amount of time to update. All I can say is that I'm very sorry and I hope you'll forgive me.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter. Damn it. Then again, that's probably a good thing. Oh, how I would torment those characters...

I'm hoping by now you know the warnings in this story, so I'm not going to repeat myself. HOWEVER... depending on your tastes, this chapter could contain some graphic violence. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Thanks to Lady Temptress for all her advice - and for all her patience when I kept saying I was nearly finished and I really, really wasn't.

Lastly, I would love some reviews - or have you all given up on me and the l-o-n-g time I took to update?

* * *

The wolf's fur gleamed silvery-green as she huddled under a tree. Ghostly blue eyes stared out, unblinking, reflecting the full moon that loitered in the sky even as the dawn approached. Her threatening and cajoling hadn't worked, so it had all narrowed down to this. She would triumph or die.

Julietta Greyback had been hunting for the last four years, but the anticipation had never faded before. She'd thought she would never tire of the gift that had been bestowed on her, the wonderful ability that allowed her bones to twist and lengthen until her true form appeared. This time, though, an ache gnawed at her, playing with her concentration. She refused to acknowledge it, or the primitive emotions that also raged inside of her. They begged her to run, hunt, feed. Live the night, outrun the morning, while she still had the chance. She only lived one night a month; only one night of being able to hear the ants' footsteps, only one night of being able to smell prey miles away, only one night of being able to feel the blanket of fur surrounding her, only one night of being able to taste the essence of the night – the intoxicating freedom. Only one night of being able to see that wolves, swift and sure, ruled the earth. Man was nothing in comparison: clumsy, blind, deaf, dumb. They deserved to be prey for their superiors.

She was wasting precious moments. Longing clawed at her belly. She wanted to explore, to run, to hunt, and in her own turf. Not in this ground where unnatural creatures roamed and a warning scent of magic hung in the air. Involuntarily, her eyes flickered to the Land-Turner dangling from her neck. If she swallowed it into her mouth, gave a slight turn of her head, she could be home in moments...

A faint rustle on the outskirts of the forest blared in her ears. Her heart sped up, blood pumped through her veins and she arched to her feet, preparing to dart out and rip the intruder limb from limb-

No. Her attack would be small. All a death would achieve would be a desire for revenge. She wanted, needed, had to have, co-operation.

A tiny part of her whispered, '_This is wrong. Don't do this, don't do this' _but she ignored it. That part was weak. That part was human.

She watched hungrily as her prey stepped into the clearing and looked around, confusion etched on his young face. He took a slow step forward, squinting into the unrelenting dark, a frown playing on his lips.

He hadn't even taken out his wand. Pity. Humans who had wands were much more fun, much more dangerous. They were almost an equal to wolves.

She leaned forward, still cloaked by the dark, her eyes trained on her prey. In a moment, her claws would be raking that fragile layer of skin. Blood would gush like lava, and it would burn like lava too when she lapped it up. But she would wait just one more moment, poised on the brink of destiny. This was it. The explosion would set off the chain reaction. In just a few moments, her father's fate would branch off and take a new path. Finally, finally, the blood-haired men would understand what they were up against. Her: a werewolf, a Greyback girl, Fenrir's one and only daughter, unique. Nature bowed to her in this form, and respected her decision to defile this inferior, subdue the Weasleys, and save her family.

Was this what her father had felt, just before he attacked the kin of this wizard?

The human reached for his wand, so she uncoiled her muscles and sprung out. Her heart sang as her lithe body arched through the air in less than a second. She collided against his solid chest (not solid enough to withstand even a female werewolf though) and knocked him to the ground, tugging his wand into her mouth and flinging it into the devouring darkness. She caught a glimpse of the fear and surprise blossoming in his eyes, and she resisted the urge to howl in delight. It would be foolish to alert the other Patrol members at this point.

How could she ever have hated this? It was what she was born to do, even though this attack would not end in death.

It would still be enjoyable, in spite of that. She trailed her claw down the side of his face, other paw clamped over his mouth. She'd barely grazed him, yet red droplets trickled out. He struggled beneath her and she let out a tiny growl. If he resisted too much, she'd knock him out. But that wouldn't be any fun. She liked her victims to_ feel _the slow agony, like being burned at the stake. Her father preferred it quick and messy, like a head being hacked off with an axe.

It was for him that this body would survive. He'd better appreciate it.

She risked a glance up at the morning sky. Just a little longer, and her shape would be torn from her. She looked down, sighing at the eyes staring up at her. She found herself wishing for that beautiful shade of blue, and guilt shot through her like a knife. She needed to banish those sinful thoughts.

She dug her claw in, stifling his yell. This was for her father's life, not for her enjoyment. She couldn't think about Ron. No, she couldn't think about the _enemy__. _She'd rip him apart if it would stop her thinking like this. She bared her canines in mockery of a smile. Just now, though? She had this one to toy with.

* * *

Her bedroom swung into focus and, trembling, Julietta flopped down on her bed. She clutched at the woollen blanket her mother had knitted before she died, but it did little to calm her thundering heart.

Dried blood lingered under her fingernails, so she stuffed her fingers into her mouth to slurp it off. The copper taste swarmed her senses and she gagged, tasting the essence of Weasley blood. She doubled over, clutching her head. Oh, wolfsbane. What had she done?

She didn't want to go back to Hogwarts, never wanted to see the towering castle or wait in the chilling forest. She never wanted to catch sight of the six brothers ever again, just wanted to forget all about them.

_Forget the damage the Greybacks had done to them. Forget the damage_ she _had done._

She closed her eyes and tried to summon up a smile. She'd done it. She'd won this battle, she'd won the war. She should be dancing round her home, or contacting someone. Draculine, Donald, Dad. They would swagger to the Werewolf Lair, or possibly the Vampire one. They would laugh and drink themselves stupid and hug and maybe she and Donald would have their own celebration, finally start the relationship Draculine and Dad had trying to initiate ever since she had turned thirteen. She'd never think of Ron again, never think about how his eyes lit up when he smiled or that, in an alternate universe, they could have been friends.

But why did she want a blood traitor for a friend? Why did she want a wizard for a friend? Why did he matter so much? What had he ever done for her?

He'd talked to her when _she'd been kidnapped__, _that was all. That took place years ago! It didn't matter, it never had. She'd wanted to choose something for herself, Julietta decided. She'd wanted to decide her own path in something, just once. Her dad had taught her to hunt, to survive. He'd taught her the necessaries, but she wanted the luxuries. She wanted love like the kind her mum and dad had shared, the kind that few people were blessed with. Her life had been written: she would have children, provide heirs for her family. They wouldn't have the Greyback surname, but they'd have Greyback blood. All she'd be was someone's whore.

The word left a strange taste in her mouth. _Whore._ Julietta flinched. Oh, in name, she'd be a wife. It was a law, women had to married before they lost their virginity. But, in reality? _Whore. _She'd be used, that was all. Used to provide heirs. She might marry Donald, which would be tolerable. They were best friends, nothing less. But he'd want heirs for the Vampire Community.

She'd wanted someone to love her for herself, not for Julietta, daughter of Fenrir. How could she have thought Ron would be that person? She wanted to bang her head against the wall until she came to her senses. Had she gone completely insane?

Maybe he'd bewitched her. Julietta exhaled slowly. That would make sense. That would explain why she'd been acting so bizarrely, like that Remus Lupin in fact. The werewolf who supported the wizards. A prickle of disgust ran down her spine.

She wound a strand of hair round her finger, yanking on it until tears sprung to her eyes. She was a fool, nothing but a fool. It was all her. That boy hadn't bewitched her at all.

Except... Ron wasn't a boy, was he? He was a man, a man with eyes that were nearly always clouded in anger or suspicion. But sometimes, just sometimes, they were clear, clear like the ocean she'd paddled in when she was just a few weeks old. She couldn't remember anything about that, but it was her dad's favourite memory to recount.

No, that was bad. Don't associate bad things with good things. Ron was bad, her father was good. If she hadn't come to her senses, she might not have attacked Ron's brother. Then her father would have been found guilty. The only advantage she had was her knowledge of the love the Weasleys shared. Ron could have forced her not to exploit that. Her father would have been found guilty, and sooner or later he would die. He was a werewolf, not an immortal. Why couldn't she make him understand that?

She'd saved her father. The Weasley brothers would lie at the Questioning, and this whole horrible incident would disappear into the murky depths of the past. Years later, she would laugh over it, scoff over the silly dreams of teenager. In the name of all that she lived for, she'd _won__._

So why did it feel like she'd lost?

* * *

"Ron?" Percy sounded like he was choking. "Ron, you need to wake up."

Ron groaned, and tried to burrow back under the covers. Opening his eyes a fraction, he registered it was nearly morning. He needed another few hours of sleep, at the very least.

"Why?" he grumbled, when it hit him like Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hex that Percy was trying not to cry.

"It's George. She attacked him."


End file.
